Self Control
by SlyNellie
Summary: Yet another version of the happenings circa "When the Gun Goes Bang Bang Bang" but more of a deeper, darker challenge to show angst without resorting to 'Oops, I shot your dad.' Humor, love, sex, and a happy ending will happen.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1 – 2,584 miles

"Ma'am."

Dr. Maura Isles is startled from the edges of slumber. Loud noises and sudden movements still jar her mercilessly.

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but we need to prepare for landing."

Maura nods to the flight attendant and stirs herself to a fully conscious state. After returning her seat to the upright and locked position, she lifts the half-closed shade and spots the dark blue Pacific in the distance. Another routine conference and possibly more awaited her.

Ordinarily, she looked forward to these exchanges of knowledge despite the redundant PowerPoint presentations and stale, cheap coffee. Tuesday would be her day as the guest panel speaker for the effects of saltwater on human decomposition.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. We are starting our descent into San Diego International Airport. Wheels will be on the ground in approximately ten minutes. Thank you for flying with us, enjoy the beautiful Southern California sunshine and 81 degrees."

Only a few hours ago, Maura left a cold and dreary Boston. The weather matched the mood of the city as the lives of three decorated officers were remembered in an overflowing memorial at The Garden. It was originally planned for a smaller venue but the outpouring of anguish over 'the situation' commanded bigger and better.

And it helped that it was held on a Saturday.

The site of such legendary athletic joy had been carefully converted into a sorrow-filled cauldron for family, friends, and colleagues of the Commonwealth's finest. Cops from every local county, several surrounding states, and a few Canadian provinces, came to pay their respects. High-ranking politicos, celebrity jocks, and ordinary citizens did so as well.

Nearly two weeks had passed since that dreadful day. Dr. Isles was an integral part of the Boston police siege nightmare still making national news. Yet it seemed like minutes ago but also a lifetime ago.

Bodies and blood pooled everywhere. A scene typical for her profession was suddenly anything but. Corrupt cops rampaged through HQ with automatic weapons fire ripping through flesh and soul.

Although physically uninjured, Beantown's chief medical examiner was not fully recovered. Not yet; maybe not ever. The New England regional director of forensic pathology insisted on Maura taking some time off. Actually, more like ordered her to attend this multi-day seminar with another week of vacation tacked on for peace and quiet.

There was absolutely nothing peaceful about Dr. Isles' life for the past few months. Not only did the police shooting do damage but also losing a half-brother she never knew existed until he ended up on her slab. Then, there was the violent discovery of her biological father's connections to the Irish mob.

But the disquiet in her head was due solely to one source: Detective Jane Rizzoli.

Jane started out as her valued coworker. She quickly became Maura's trusted best friend and a dominant force of nature throughout her life. It was only recently that they became covert lovers.

This specific element of their relationship would best be categorized as an eleven-day sex addiction culminating in a torrent of tortured truths and raw emotions just days before the BPD bloodbath bombarded their world.

"Pardon me, Miss?"

Maura beckons to the flight attendant passing by.

"Bourbon, please."

"Ma'am, we're ready to land."

"I only need the bottle."

"Safety regulations prevent me from…"

"When the plane lands and I begin to exit, please hand it to me."

"There are several lounges in..."

"I do not WISH to stop at a lounge!"

The doctor holds up a c-note, smiles, and ceases the conversation. The attendant begrudgingly agrees as Maura grumbles to herself for not taking her father's private jet. She counts the seconds until the plane laggardly pulls into the gate.

Once granted her libation request, she swiftly tucks the miniature brown bottle inside her black Bvlgari bag next to her TSA-approved lip gloss and a folded piece of dark cloth.

She deliberately does not turn on her phone.

Maura races through the terminal to an outside private parking structure. A balding man in a pinstripe suit tilts his head as she approaches.

"Dr. Isles?"

"Thank you for handling my request."

"I always enjoy accommodating a beautiful lady."

He pops open the driver's door of a charcoal and gold Maserati GranCabrio Fendi. She eagerly climbs inside and signs the paperwork.

"I will return it upon my departure."

"No baggage, ma'am?"

"The physical kind has already been sent ahead to the resort."

Maura buckles up and basks in the engine roaring to life. The man leans over the convertible's side and hands her a pair of sunglasses that match the car.

"Is it a California law that car, clothes, and accessories must all be coordinated?"

"Not yet, ma'am... would you like me to put the top up for you?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Might I make a few suggestions on how to handle this particular model? – it can be temperamental at times."

"Handling temperamental models has become my expertise of late."

"Are you sure I can't interest you in another vehicle?"

"Germans are overrated, Brits break down, Japanese are boring, and the Americans have a lot to learn… no, thank you – I prefer a powerful Italian ride."

Before he can reply, Maura throws it in reverse and squeals out of the lot.

Traveling north on the I-5, the doctor gradually pushes past the speed limit. A master of detachment, she swallows her emotions as easily as a glass of Pinot. It allows her to work in a profession most find ghoulish and disturbing.

As she zooms past several nondescript cars and minivans, she spies a patrol officer on a motorcycle tracking an unlucky delivery truck. She immediately drops her speed and avoids detection.

The cop's image instantly flashes Dr. Isles back to the earlier memorial service. Unable to downshift her thoughts to surf and sand, she surrenders to doleful memories. The solemn sights and sounds for the fallen well up from deep inside of her.

Brahms' _Horn Trio_ was played during the procession. The last time she heard it live was in Vienna when she helped her parents celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary. It amazed her how the happiness in her life associated with that particular piece of music was now and forever replaced with utter despair.

For the first time, Maura completely understood the constant fear Frank and Angela Rizzoli felt when their daughter and son went off to work each day. The thought of Jane being one of the oversized portraits ringed with white roses and lush lilies abruptly makes the doctor wretch. She nearly misses her exit.

Finally passing through the five-star resort's elaborate Mediterranean-inspired gates, Maura is able to breathe a little easier. She heads up the cobblestone car path and eventually checks in at the front desk.

Foregoing the usual chitchat with lobby staff and guests, she now finds herself being transported around the grounds by a very exuberant, very blond, very young man in a private golf cart.

"Hey, pretty missy – my name is Billy!"

"Hello, Billy… and thank you for being the first to call me 'miss' today but my name is Dr. Isles."

"Is this your first time here, Dr. Isles?"

"No, but I haven't been back since the remodel."

"The new owners spared no expense."

"It shows."

"So, where are you originally from?"

"Boston."

"Ooh, I heard about that police shooting – that was beyond nasty."

"Indeed, it was."

There is a long pause as Billy regards the black coat under her arm.

"You won't need your heavy wool out here."

"This is becoming very apparent."

"How long will you be staying with us?"

"That remains to be determined."

"Awesome."

As an orange sun begins to set over the reflective ocean, they pull up to a large, reclusive villa on the edge of the golf course. The chauffer-turned-bellboy bustles about with the bags while painstakingly pointing out each feature of the doctor's temporary mini palazzo.

"Can I ask you for a small favor, Doc?"

"Doc-tor Isles and I will not perform an examination on you, nor will I provide you with narcotics."

"No, no! I just want you to go online and fill out a quick survey that says I was cool and all."

"I shall."

Billy's eyes do the standard boob dip before they bounce back up to meet Maura's. He grins. She does not.

"If there's anything you need at any time, I'm your guy!"

"Actually, I need some solitude – thank you for your assistance."

The doctor slips a neatly folded rectangle of cash into his hand and shuts the door.

Now alone in the too large, too quiet villa, Maura closes her eyes and collapses on the plush king bed. Jane's face is unavoidable, even in her own mind. She sighs, opens her eyes, and reaches inside her purse for the bourbon.

It is the usual taste of their sex together.

With a quick twist of an unadorned wrist, she pops the top and traces a drop on her upper lip with her finger tip. It stings ever so slightly. The sting of Jane not being in the bed with her burns even deeper.

The dark cloth next to the lip gloss is now pulled free and is rhythmically coiled and uncoiled around both hands. She reflects back to another time zone, earlier in the day.

"I need to leave before she sees me," Maura mutters to the air as she warily exits through one of the side doors. The memorial has not fully concluded but the main part of the service is over. The doctor justifies the departure with making her flight on time.

The heels of her black leather Giambattista Valli boots clack down the large corridor leading to the outside. The blacker Burberry coat conceals her blackest Dior dress and a solo strand of her mother's Tahitian pearls. This was not an occasion for color of any kind.

Arena staff, security, and miscellaneous crew are scattered about. The doctor almost makes a clean getaway but the voice of Eros' cigarette freezes her feet in their tracks.

"Maura!"

Decked out in dashing dress blues, Detective Rizzoli scrambles to catch up to the doctor. The pain from the still-mending gunshot wound hinders her usual athletic stride but her quarry is never let out of sight.

Dr. Isles sprints ahead and ducks behind a corner. With nowhere to run, she attempts to blend in with some maintenance workers while pretending to look through her purse. Jane slowly walks up to her.

"Trying to hide with janitors, dressed like that, after being spotted by THE DETECTIVE who repeatedly fucks you senseless… REALLY?"

"Please stop using that expression, it's hackneyed."

"I know, right?"

Maura groans and takes off again. Jane follows and calls after her.

"Maybe you could sneak in the Celtics' locker room and pass yourself off as a seven-foot black man."

Now headed across the parking lot, Isles is widening the distance between them.

"Maura... WAIT – please don't make me run after you!"

The request slams into the doctor's raised, reinforced drawbridge. She hesitates for a bit and now feels the presence of Jane directly in back of her. Unwilling to turn around, the smaller woman stares at their two shadows cast by a newly emerged sun.

"Are you ever gonna look me in the eye?"

Unable to resist, the doctor inhales deeply, steels herself, and slowly faces the taller woman. Jane's labored breathing and worried expression instantly transform into a soft smile.

"Hi."

Maura reflects the smile back but is unable to find the words. The detective searches her face for answers and takes a step closer.

"How are you?"

"Fine… and you?"

"Fine and dandy."

There is an uncomfortable silence. The smaller woman can't help but notice the gaunt body before her.

"You've lost at least three kilos."

"GSW to the abdomen… better than any cleanse or vegan crap."

"Once you're off the soft diet, you should regain your weight."

"Ma will make sure of it."

Jane's eyes are planted firmly on Maura's breasts.

"Jesus, did your boobs get even bigger or is it double-D vision?"

Much to Jane's chagrin, Maura uncomfortably closes her coat.

"I have recently overindulged in toffee, scones, and clotted cream."

"Thank you!"

The detective's smoldering stare blazes through the doctor's coat and skin. Maura clears her throat and snaps back to icy professionalism.

"Are you monitoring your stool for hematochezia?"

"Did we just jump from boob talk to poop talk?"

"Your suffered a significant hollow viscus injury."

Rizzoli rolls her eyes and scoffs at Isles' formality defense mechanism.

"I don't care about your medical mumbo jumbo..."

Jane swaggers even closer. She reaches for Maura's hand and gently takes it in hers.

"Frost told me you saved my life."

"We were all very fortunate."

"Then WHY didn't you show up at my hospital room and WHY did you skip town?"

"I made sure that all of the doctors handling your care were the best in their respective fields."

"YOU'RE MY DOCTOR, MAURA, YOU ARE… you're more than that."

"My mother insisted on taking me to our London house, I needed the rest…"

The detective gesticulates wildly and mocks ferociously.

"OOOHHH, THE LONDON HOUSE – PARDON ME, PRINCESS, FOR INTERRUPTING YOUR TEATIME – I HOPE MY GUTS DIDN'T GET IN THE WAY."

Rizzoli grabs her side and winces.

"Ow, ow, ow."

Isles rushes over and checks the detective's dressing.

"Your oblique is in spasm, take a deep breath and release it slowly."

The taller woman reluctantly follows the doctor's orders and allows her to check both entry and exit wounds. The light touch of the smaller woman eases the emotional tension while increasing the physical.

"You need to be home in bed."

"I wholeheartedly agree… come with me."

The doctor's drawbridge is beginning to crack and crumble. The detective growls in her ear.

"I miss hearing you say my name."

The combo of hurt and husk in Rizzoli's voice rattles Isles to the core. With drawbridge demolished, Maura's tears flood the moat and Jane's wingspan holds tight as the sobs shake them both.

They remain wrapped in each other as a passerby assumes the two are overwhelmed with grief befitting the ceremony. The last time the doctor held the detective in her arms, she was also a crying heap but with the warm gush of blood covering her hands.

An avowed atheist until those very seconds on the front steps, Maura ran through the medical protocols while seeking out every god and goddess she could remember. She begged and bargained with any pantheon and prayed for help.

One of them chose to listen.

Now with the days of torment fading behind them, Jane gently strokes Maura's back and caresses her hair.

"You have no idea how much I wanna kiss you right now."

The doctor pulls back, wipes her nose, and looks the detective directly in the eye.

"Then, why don't you?"

The taller woman reacts as if she were scalded by a bucket of hot ash.

"I apologize – I know you can't, that wasn't fair of me to say…"

Before the smaller woman can continue with her sentence, she is led down a convoluted path of parked cars and permanent light poles. A cement structure next to an oversized SUV conveniently provides an alcove of privacy. The detective does a quick survey of the isolated area and then presses the doctor up against the block wall.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Something other than talking."

The colloquy ends and the kissing commences. It is the first time since the day before the shooting and the first time without the tinge of EtOH.

"Jane."

"There's my name… say it again."

"Oh, Jane."

Tongues reunited spark muscle memory for both and they soon find themselves in a position not appropriate for public. Jane gingerly compensates for her sore flank with Maura taking notice.

"Stop, you're physically not up for this."

"Don't tell me what I'm not up for."

"You just got out of the hospital."

"Glad you noticed."

The detective's left hand pushes past the doctor's coat as the kissing continues.

"Please, I don't want to aggravate your condition."

"You've already aggravated my condition by not being here and then suddenly being here with bigger jugs…"

Jane buries her face between the beckoning bosoms while hiking up the hem of Maura's dress.

"Jane, please."

"Please what, Maura? – please stop or please don't stop?"

The smaller woman is unable to offer an audible answer as the taller woman yanks down the barely there black lace. Flesh on flesh contact is made.

"Thought so."

Incapable of lying or protesting, Isles' right thigh seductively slides up and rests cautiously around Rizzoli's hip.

"We shouldn't disrespect the dead."

"I doubt the dead mind – besides, I'm very much alive thanks to you… now, let me return the favor."

The taller woman proceeds without caution and, for the next several minutes, works her way back into the smaller woman's comfort zone. Maura unabashedly revels in Jane's touch. She knows three proximal centimeters with the bullet would have drastically altered this outcome.

"Maura, I need this… I need us."

The doctor can only respond with ragged breaths and hushed whimpers.

As the crowd begins to spill from the exits, their pace quickens due to the danger of being discovered. The smaller woman arches her back and hurries her climax; however, she is reluctant to release the left hand back to its rightful owner. The taller woman understands this and slows her withdrawal.

"Shh, it's okay, babe – it's all better now, I promise."

Maura stifles her moan on Jane's shoulder and steadies her gasps. The two kiss away the beads of perspiration from each other's brow ridge and finally part.

"I… I hope no one saw us, Jane – kissing is one thing but that was…"

"A skeleton in a cop costume hand jobbing an orca balloon?"

Maura's wide eyes and stunned silence speak volumes. Jane sheepishly rubs her forehead.

"That… was meant to stay… in my head… but it managed to escape… my mouth… and land… in your ears… sorry."

Maura continues to say nothing.

"I'm guessing that look on your face isn't another orgasm…"

"No… no, it is not."

"PAINKILLERS – it's the painkillers, they make me say stupid things."

Isles is not buying it. Rizzoli dramatically grabs her injured side.

"Hero cop… bullet wound… ow?"

The doctor concedes a subdued smirk as she adjusts her dress.

"Hey… please don't ever try to hide your beautiful smile from me."

Jane delicately kisses Maura's dimples.

"You know I'll find it."

Maura now kisses all three of Jane's dimples.

"I hope so."

The detective strips her lover's now shin-level lace panties the rest of the way off. She surreptitiously shoves them into the side pocket of her uniform.

"Keeping the DNA evidence, detective?"

"I need to give it a more thorough inspection, doctor."

Maura nuzzles Jane's neck and notices the white collar of Rizzoli's undershirt now bears the stain of Isles' smeared lipstick.

"Mmm, I'm afraid I left another clue behind."

She seductively buttons up the taller woman's formal shirt and tightens the matching tie around the betraying collar. Errant strands of black hair are adoringly smoothed back into place. The smaller woman's attentions are agonizingly arousing to Jane.

"Let's go back to my apartment and finish this properly."

"I can't – I'm going to be late for my flight."

"Wait… WHAT?"

"I'm going to San Diego for awhile."

"IS THIS BECAUSE OF THE ORCA JOKE?"

"There is a medical conference, the director insisted I attend."

Jane holds the back of her head as if shot and steps away in disgust. Maura looks to the ground and braces herself.

"Also…"

The detective whips around.

"ALSO?"

"There is a potential locum tenens position."

"I don't know what locust whatever-the-fuck means!"

"It's Latin for place holder or a temporary job – state budget cuts have radically reduced staffing…"

"Are you sure it's not Latin for 'run and hide,' Maura?"

"Jane, don't."

The detective is no longer able to fight off the tears.

"I don't BELIEVE what I'm hearing."

The doctor is weeping as well.

"Please calm down."

"You just got back from London and now you're leaving… again!"

"It will only be for sixty days."

"TWO MONTHS – TWO FUCKING MONTHS?"

"It will go by quickly."

"YOU HAVE A JOB… HERE – YOU HAVE A LIFE… HERE."

"We both need time to recover."

Rizzoli storms back over to Isles and intentionally cups the side of her face with her left hand. She pointedly trails her thumb over parted lips.

"We were recovering just fine against that wall."

Maura pushes herself away and is now sobbing full throttle.

"We need time to heal… separately."

"I don't understand!"

"This was an adverse event I never anticipated, and now I have made an informed decision to take the most appropriate course of action."

"BULLSHIT, YOU'RE TALKING BULLSHIT."

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON."

"NO, I DON'T, EXPLAIN IT TO ME."

"YOU FRIGHTEN ME, JANE – I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE – WHEN YOU SHOT YOURSELF, THE BULLET WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH YOU AND LANDED RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF MY HEART…"

The doctor emphatically pounds the middle of her own chest.

"AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO REMOVE IT!"

Maura's face is five shades of crimson as she chokes for breath. Jane runs over and gathers her into a soothing embrace. The detective's voice is a fraction above a crackle.

"I… I didn't know – please let me help you."

They linger for a moment as the main motorcade starts its engines. Jane's brother shouts across the lot.

"Pop is bringing the car around, Janie, let's move – hey, is that Maura?"

"Give us a minute, Frankie!"

The smaller woman breaks the hold and peers into the taller woman's eyes with purpose.

"I really need to leave… and so do you."

Realizing that screaming and groveling and another round of fucking are no longer options, Rizzoli reluctantly lets Isles go.

"Call me when you get there, Maura… please!"

The doctor walks about ten feet away, halts, spins around and runs back over to the detective. She quickly undoes the dark tie, snatches it off the collar, and stuffs it into her purse.

"I'm in love with you, Jane."

The stunning admission catches them both off guard as Maura bolts to her car without looking back.

The sun is now completely set on the west coast. Alone in her dimly lit room, the doctor wipes the tears from her eyes and the memories from her mind while still clutching the detective's tie. She finally turns on her phone.

_17 messages from Jane Rizzoli._

She casually deletes all voicemails and texts without retrieving them and then picks a number from her contact list. She calls it and speaks in conversational Marathi.

"Yes, I'm in town for the conference… won't you join me for a drink?"


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 – 8-Ball

Inside a small family home in Malden, Massachusetts, Detective Jane Rizzoli is fixated on an antique cuckoo clock that hangs next to childhood pictures of Bert McAllister, one of the fallen officers memorialized earlier that day.

The painted bird pops out at exactly seven o'clock and mocks Jane as she scans her phone one more time. Texts from Detective Barry Frost. A message from Detective Vince Korsak. Texts and messages from her mother, Angela. Nothing from Maura.

She sighs and shoves the phone back in her pocket as well wishers congregate around the McAllister family. Her brother Frankie slams back another shot of Bushmill's and pops a couple of stuffed mushroom caps in his mouth.

"Mmm, but not as good as Ma's."

"Never mind me, I'll just continue to enjoy my applesauce and water."

"Try shooting yourself in the leg next time, instead of the pooper."

"Is food all you can think about right now?"

"What would you rather have me think about, Janie? – McAllister's brains all over the goddamn floor?" 

"Jesus, Frankie, lower your voice!"

"Sorry, I forget how loud I get when I'm soused."

The two of them force twin half smiles at a passing priest. 

"So, what's so important?" 

"What?" 

"You keep checking your phone every ten seconds."

Jane instantly takes a defensive stance.

"No, I don't."

"Fine, every fifteen seconds – has the Doc checked in yet?"

"What makes you think it's Maura?"

"That look on your face and that tone in your voice – LLBFF, my ass!"

Even with the dull pain in her right flank, Rizzoli is ready to box her brother's ears until McAllister's still shell-shocked widow approaches.

"Thank you both for coming, Bert adored the two of you."

The Rizzoli siblings exchanged quiet, respectful words with the hollowed-out woman. As they go to hug her, Mrs. McAllister begins to weep on Jane's shoulder. Instinctively, she goes to pull some tissue out of her pocket. She pulls out Maura's panties instead. The look on Frankie's face says it all.

"Napkin, Frankie, now!"

The younger Rizzoli offers Mrs. McAllister his cocktail napkin and she dries her tears. Thankfully, she didn't see Jane's version of a face wipe. The widow squeezes both of their hands and takes her leave. Now alone with each other again, Jane takes a long drink of water.

"That was a nifty trick, Sis, but I don't think magic is appropriate at this time."

"Huh?"

"How did you yank out your undies through your outer pants?"

"Frankie."

"Is there a special hole in your pocket?"

Jane's voice drops into a whispered growl.

"Frankie… they're not mine."

"But…"

"Do I really look like the sexy French lace kind of girl?"

"NOOO."

"SHHH."

"Maura's?"

"Yep."

"YESSS."

"Stop."

"Did… did you two… at The Garden?"

"Technically, the parking lot."

"NIIICE."

"I know I wasn't being appropriate… do I disgust you?"

"Disgust me? – you're my friggin' hero in so many ways!"

"Me being with… you know, another woman… that doesn't disgust you?"

"You're talking to a dude here, that doesn't disgust me at all… except for the ick factor of thinking about my sister having sex with anyone."

A look of absolute relief crosses the elder Rizzoli's face.

"What's more important, Janie, is that it's Maura… I love her, so do our folks, even more so after what happened."

"Me, too."

"Was that the first time for you two?"

"No… it became physical a few weeks before the situation with Bobby Marino."

"Exactly when and where?"

"Why?"

"There's an office pool."

"Oh, God!"

"I had you two down for the back alley of The Robber but I think Frost actually called it on the parking lot… I'm not sure which lot."

"ENOUGH."

Jane rubs her face in anguish as Frankie grabs a handful of chips. Her phone goes off. She eagerly checks it but it's another text from Angela.

"For the love of God, Ma, give it a rest."

With a mouth full of crunching chips, Frankie pats his sister's shoulder.

"I'm sure Maura is fine."

"No, she isn't… and that's the problem."

"She'll call you when she gets there."

"Her plane arrived over two hours ago and she's already checked into the hotel."

"How do you know?"

"I just did some verifying – one of the few perks of our job."

"Stalker, much?"

"I'm just concerned, that's all… she said something before she left."

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Then don't smother her... Ma!

"Don't call me that."

"You are, you're unrelenting, just like Ma – it makes you a hell of a detective but also an

annoying bitch sometimes."

"HO-WHOA, what happened to thank you so much for saving my life, Sis?"

"Hey, I'm gonna let you play that card for another year and a certain number of Red Sox playoff games, then that's it... besides, it was Maura who technically saved my life."

"She did."

"And yours."

"I KNOW, ALREADY."

"Why are you getting so upset?"

"Because I want her here, Frankie, I don't understand why she isn't here with me."

Jane starts to tear up and almost pulls out Maura's panties again. She wipes her nose on her sleeve.

"But she came back for the memorial today."

"That's just Maura's sense of obligation."

"Maybe she needs time to clear her head, especially after going crackers and all."

Jane's face falls to the floor.

"Crackers? – what the hell does that mean?"

"Y'know, crackers."

"No, Frankie, I don't know what crackers means... does Maura like to dip herself in soup, spread herself with cheese?"

"I don't mean pretzels."

"Frankie!"

"Look, I don't know all the details except she went a little nuts."

"SWEAR to God, if you mention one more snack item…"

"She went crazy when we were in ICU, okay?"

"Oh, no."

"Ma knows everything, ask her."

"I need to go to San Diego."

"No, you don't – leave Maura alone, Janie… for now."

"I need to sit down."

"Go take a breather on the sofa in the other room – Pop is going to pick us up in about ten minutes."

"Okay, where are you going to be?"

"I see Jimmy Dugan in the kitchen sneaking all the shrimp, I'll be right back."

Jane follows her brother's advice and sits on the sofa next to an elderly McAllister relative. They exchange polite smiles but no words. Out of the corner of her eye, Jane spots Officer Michelle Hall across the room.

"Aw, shit."

The elderly McAllister relative gawks at Jane.

"Sorry."

Jane reluctantly thinks back to the last time she spoke to her police academy pal at Teddy's Bar & Billiards the day before their graduation. Recruit Rizzoli was showing off her usual pool table mastery during a Friday night of fun. Michelle is the only one playing with her.

"10-ball, corner pocket."

Jane easily makes the shot and smirks.

"Having your way with the stripes tonight."

"As usual."

"Next time we play pool here, we're going to be officers."

"Any idea where you're going to be assigned, soon-to-be Officer Hall?"

"No word yet, but most likely Dorchester."

Jane finally misses a shot.

"Where the hell is Smitty with our beers?"

"He's talking up some bottle blonde at the bar."

"Heh."

"Actually, I'm glad it's just the two of us right now, soon-to-be Officer Rizzoli."

"Take your shot, Michelle, or are you going to talk the ball into the pocket?"

"I am taking my shot, Jane."

The young woman crosses over to the other side of the table where Jane is perched.

"That new zombie robot movie is coming out next week, would you like to go?"

"Sure, you know me, if there's an exploding planet or a car chase, I'm so there!"

"Maybe we could try that new Thai place next to the theater?"

"Smitty hates Thai."

"Uh, no, I don't want Smitty to go with us."

"Smitty always goes with us."

"Jane… I'm asking you out… on a date."

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

Jane throws down her stick and grabs Michelle's arm. She leads her out of the bar and out of earshot of their fellow recruits.

"Jane, stop, you're hurting my arm."

"What the hell are you doing, Michelle?"

"I'm so sorry, I just thought…"

"YOU THOUGHT WHAT? – YOU THOUGHT I WAS A FUCKING DYKE LIKE YOU?"

"Jane, please."

"YOU THOUGHT WRONG."

"Okay, let's forget this ever happened."

"That's kinda hard to do now – don't we have it difficult enough being two women in the academy, why did you have to go and pull this shit?"

"It's not 'shit,' Jane, it's who I am."

"How come I didn't know this about you before?"

"The question is how did you not?"

Jane sighs and paces up and down. Michelle folds her arms and leans against the building. She attempts a little levity.

"Guess you'll never make detective."

"THIS ISN'T FUNNY."

"I've known I was gay since third grade."

"DON'T SAY THAT WORD." 

"What word? – 'third'… is that a dirty word?"

"Cut it out, Michelle."

"Grow up, Jane."

"I need to know… are people saying this shit about me, too?"

"No one has said anything about you except what an amazing recruit you are – you're top of the class for good reason."

"Then why do you think that about me?"

"Oh, I dunno – in all the time I have known you, I've never seen you go out on a date with a guy."

"I think I've been a little busy."

"Not that busy."

"Being a cop is all I care about."

"And that time you refused to go to Koko's sub shop for lunch, I took that as a sign."

Jane looks bewildered.

"Koko's is run by conservative extremists, they are very anti-gay… excuse me, anti-third."

"I… I hate Koko's because THEY SERVE CRAPPY SUBS, I DIDN'T KNOW NOT GOING THERE WAS SECRET CODE FOR 'I WANNA EAT YOUR TACO'…"

"Fine, every time a handsome man walks by, you look right through him but if a gorgeous woman does, especially the top heavy kind, your eyes fall out of your head."

"I look out of envy, not out of lust."

"Right, because you're such a hideous beast."

"You know, I grew up with two brothers and a former Marine father… I'm going to like butch stuff like sports and guns and comfortable clothes."

"I know a lot of straight girls who like sports and guns and comfortable clothes… that's why I didn't bring those up, you brought those up – why did you bring those up, Jane?"

"All I'm hearing is circumstantial evidence, Michelle, not proof."

"I think you need to take a deeper look inside yourself."

"And I think you need to shut the fuck up with your wishful thinking."

"Smitty is waving to us, are we going back inside?"

"We're done here, Hall."

"Then, I guess I'll see you at graduation."

Jane gets right in Michelle's face and snarls.

"You stay the hell away from me, you do not talk to me, you do not even so much as speak my name, and you do NOT breathe one single word of this to anyone… do you understand me?"

"I do."

"Good, because no one else is gonna assume this shit about me ever again."

Jane takes off down the street.

"Best of luck to you, Rizzoli… I truly hope you find peace someday!"

"Go fuck a lesbo lacrosse coach!"

Jane winds up at sports bar full of rowdy Bruins fans. She orders a double shot of bourbon. Two different men offer to buy her another round and she takes them up on it.

"By this time tomorrow, I can arrest you boys for drunk and disorderly… but tonight is your lucky night in so many ways."

Jane snaps out of her unpleasant memory and rubs her eyes. The elderly McAllister relative is fast asleep next to her. She slowly gets up from the sofa and carefully approaches Michelle.

"Officer Hall."

"Detective Rizzoli… that was some hero maneuver you pulled at the station but I'm not at all surprised."

"Hard to believe Bobby was dirty."

"I know."

"How are you?"

"Good, and yourself?"

"Better."

"Great… so, I guess I'll see you around."

"Michelle, wait."

The woman pauses and takes an uncomfortable sip from her beverage.

"I want to sincerely apologize for the last time we spoke, I was… very inappropriate."

"You mean you were a complete asshole."

"Yes, yes I was."

"Thank you for finally acknowledging that."

"Sensitivity was never my strong suit."

"Overcoming immaturity is never easy."

"How's Smitty doing?"

"Absolutely loves it up in Concord."

"Good for him."

A very pregnant woman comes over with a plate of pastries and grins at them both.

"Jane, I want you to meet my wife, Cheryl."

"Hi, there… congratulations."

"Thanks – honey, we need to get going."

"I'm right behind you."

Before Michelle leaves, she turns to Jane and looks her right in the eye.

"Have you found peace yet, Rizzoli?"

"I'm getting there."

"I'm very happy for you and I hope you find someone who makes you as happy as Cheryl makes me."

"I think I have."

"Then Dr. Isles is a very lucky lady…"

As Michelle and Cheryl head out the door, Frankie sneaks up in back of Jane and burps.

"Classy."

"Not as classy as carrying around your girlfriend's panties as a handkerchief."

"Frankie, does everyone know about me and Maura?"

"Sis, Martians know about you and Maura."

"I thought you didn't believe in extraterrestrial life?"

"I don't, but if I did, they'd know – c'mon, Pop is waiting in the car."

"I wonder what Maura is doing right now?"

"Gimme that phone, don't even think about calling!"

_**NOTE: The mystery of "it" will be solved next chapter, I ask you for your patience and your trust.**_


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3 Ocho Cortado

_**Please read this chapter all the way through and check out my blog (.com) for more of a preface to this story. Thanks!**_

Dressed in a slinky black cocktail dress with a splash of fuschia sequins that perfectly match her heels, Maura sits patiently at a candle-lit table for two. Her face lights up into a full smile as a very handsome, very debonair man in a perfectly tailored tux approaches. His smile matches hers, tooth for tooth.

"Ashok!"

"Hello, Maura – I'm so glad you called."

The tall, dark man around the same age as Dr. Isles bends down and gives her the traditional European two-cheek kiss.

"You're as stunning as ever, my dear."

"And I love how you look in a white dinner jacket."

"I wore it just for you."

"Tanqueray and tonic?"

He takes her hand in his and gently squeezes it.

"Actually, I'd rather just skip the drinks and get right to it… I've been thinking about it non-stop since we spoke earlier."

"So have I, Shoky, so have I."

He kisses her hand and leads her away from the table.

"Follow me."

They pass similarly attired couples resting on barstools and long leather benches.

"Let's not get too tired out, remember we have the conference to prepare for."

"Stamina was never a problem for you in the past."

"This is true."

"Are you ready?"

"Always."

She grabs a tight hold of his arm and licks her lips with excitement. Unmistakable notes from an accordion reverberate around the room. Gotan Project's _Mi Confesion_ blares from the sound system as Ashok and Maura take ownership of the dance floor.

They spend the next several minutes doing a modern interpretation of an Argentine tango. All eyes in the club are quickly captured as they put on quite the show. Barridas, cruzadas, and sacadas never looked so sexy. Applause fills the air as they finish.

"More, my dear?"

"You know I can never get enough."

After three more numbers, they finally take a break and settle back at their table. Dr. Ashok Ramachandran motions to the cocktail waitress and orders a round of drinks.

"Ooh, that was so much fun, Shoky, thank you."

"You're still the best dance partner I've ever had, Maura."

"Don't let Phillip hear you say that."

"Please, he's too busy golfing or some other activity with a stick and balls."

"As long as he comes home to your stick and balls, correct?"

"Precisely."

"And how is your adorable hubby?"

"Excellent, he sends his love."

"And little Khema?"

"Not so little anymore – can you believe she's going to be three next month?"

"It seems like I just sent her second birthday present weeks ago… time sure does fly."

"So true… by the way, she loved her ostrich-feather slippers from Auntie Momo, wouldn't take them off for a solid month."

The cocktail waitress brings over two gin and tonics and they toast before quenching their thirst. Ashok suddenly grows serious and grabs Maura's hand.

"When Phillip called me at the lab screaming to turn on the news because my college beard was in the middle of a shootout, I was never so frightened in my entire life except for when Khema had a 104' fever."

"It… was beyond frightening."

"I can only imagine – police are supposed to protect you, not slaughter you like lambs in your workplace."

Maura takes a long drink of her cocktail and tries not to tear up. She fails. Ashok notices and offers her his embroidered silk handkerchief. She politely refuses, much to his relief, and dabs her eyes with the cocktail napkin.

"Please tell me you're seeing someone about this, my dear."

"My mother forced me to go to a specialist in London… I quickly declined."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"You think I don't know I've been through a trauma and that I don't know how to diagnose myself?"

"It's not a question of whether you can, Maura, it's a question of whether you should."

"Please save your lecture for the panel."

"I'm preschool parent pals with the UC psych department chair – let me give her a call and see if she can fit you in."

Maura huffs her displeasure and finishes off her drink. She shakes the empty glass at a passing cocktail waitress.

"It's not that I don't appreciate your concern but I need to deal with this the way I need to deal with this, please."

"I'm worried about my friend, I don't want…"

Ashok clears his throat and looks away. He settles for a sip of his drink.

"Just come right out and say it, Shoky – you think I'm going to use again."

"Are you?"

"No!"

"If I checked your purse, what would I find?"

"A half-empty mini bourbon bottle and a black tie."

Ashok looks confused. Maura shows him the contents of her purse and takes out her phone. She then looks back to her fellow doctor friend who is still unconvinced.

"In our junior year at BCU, Maura, I can count the number of days on my one hand when you weren't high."

"Yet I still managed to score all A's."

"Because you excel at compartmentalizing… isn't that what you're doing now?"

"I know you're worried but that temporary lapse in judgment is a thing of the past… I was an immature, poor little rich girl who was too damn smart for my own good."

"And?"

"I also believed that no one could ever truly love me for me."

"So, you've finally found someone?"

"Heh, you could say I have a new fix now."

Ashok looks horrified.

"Stop fretting, I don't snort it but swallowing is definitely involved."

Ashok looks even more horrified.

"Let's dance some more!"

"My dear, please… be serious for a moment."

"That's the problem, Shoky, I'm too serious – I came out here to get away from my issues… at least, for a little while."

"No one would blame you in the least if you never went back to your job – one phone call from Phillip and you could start a new life here in San Diego or Los Angeles or San Francisco, anywhere in this entire state."

"Thank you, that's very kind… but my life is back in Boston."

"Why? – what is keeping you there?"

"Who…"

Maura pulls up a picture on her phone, does her signature dimpled grin, and shows it to Ashok.

"This is Jane."

"My heavens…"

"Mm-hmm."

"Is she as hot in bed as she looks?"

"You can definitely judge this book by its cover."

"How are you able to walk, let alone dance?"

"Not easily, I assure you."

"You should be parading her around the floor as your partner."

"Believe me, I would love nothing more than to get her in a designer gown or tuxedo and do just that but she has her own issues to deal with."

"I know you could teach her how to tango very easily."

"We have other lessons we're currently working on – fortunately, she's a quick study... in most areas."

"What do you mean?"

"She won't go down on me."

Ashok gulps the last of his drink and then jams his fingers in his ears.

"Her hands are amazing but I want her mouth."

"And here is where I politely change the topic!"

"C'mon, Shoky, you're a doctor."

"Not of lady parts, thank goodness..."

"How are you going to have this talk with Khema when she gets older?"

"I am going to refer her to Phillip's sisters or, hopefully, you'll have it figured out by then."

"Brilliant plan."

"My dear, you need a girlfriend to talk to about this."

"Jane is my girlfriend that I usually talk to about matters such as this."

"Can't you simply point and offer a reward?"

"She cannot perform cunnilingus on me because of what it represents to her."

"Thankfully, I do not understand a single word of that."

"Jane Rizzoli comes from a working-class, Italian-American Catholic family, so she has a lot of repression to work through."

"And you're doing your utmost to help her along."

"I'm doing my best."

"You always did like a challenge."

"She is the biggest challenge of my life, I think climbing Kangchenjunga would be much easier... but she also embraces me in ways I never thought possible."

Ashok instantly recognizes the look on Maura's face and the timbre of her words.

"That's because you're in love."

Instead of bristling at her friend's declaration, Maura nods in agreement and stares at the candle on the table.

"You're not the first person to notice that..."

"It's hard to miss – and, I must say, it looks quite fetching on you… never thought I'd see it, myself."

"Am I really that cold and incapable of emotion?"

"No, that was never it – first, I'm thrilled to see you finally picked a side…"

"It was never about 'sides' for me."

"Don't be naive, it's always about sides with everything in life."

"Speaking of sides, I am a tad famished."

"Didn't you have supper?"

"The only things I've had in my mouth all day are water, liquor, breath mints, airline pretzels, and Jane's tongue."

"Scrumptious!"

"Mmm."

"Shall we go downstairs and get some din din then?"

"Let's… but first, please finish what you were going to say about me and don't couch your words."

Ashok takes a deep breath and hardens his response.

"For whatever reason, Maura, you carefully constructed a massive Titanium fortress around your heart – it's been that way since I've known you."

"I know."

"Honestly, I didn't think it was possible for anyone – man or woman – to penetrate it."

"I didn't think so, either."

"This Jane must be one highly-skilled individual."

"Yes, she is – it makes her one effective detective as well."

"Oh, no… remember the disaster the last time you had an office dalliance."

"This is much more than a fling – besides, I thought I was in love in Africa."

"That was sheer fantasy, my dear, took you long enough to figure it out."

"I realize that now – it was based on the heightened reality of the situation, I was the lead heroine in my own Jane Austen novel."

"I never pegged you for the Fanny Price type."

Both chuckle as the cocktail waitress brings over their tab.

"And what makes this time different from an overheated romance tome?"

"Every other lover in my life was instantly attracted to me for sex or money or both… Jane abhors my wealth and it took her over a year to get up the nerve to kiss me."

"How adorable… but not as adorable as this face."

Ashok holds up a picture on his phone of Khema cuddling a stuffed penguin.

"Aww!"

"Damn, there's barely any reception in here – I have to make a quick call to the lab for some test results and then I need to check in with Phillip, I'll be right back."

"Take your time."

Maura is now alone at the table. The mention of lab results flashes her back to her office a few days before the shooting. She is typing away at her keyboard when Jane mischievously enters the room.

"Hey Maura, do you have the results on our latest vic yet?"

The detective carefully closes the door behind her before the chief medical examiner can respond. Maura shoots a simpering grin in Jane's direction and taps her office phone.

"Yoshima, I'm going to be on my lunch break, please let me know as soon as the cultures come back… but I am not to be disturbed until then."

Rizzoli quietly locks the office door and leans back against it as Isles slowly rises from her chair and seductively removes her lab coat.

"Funny, I had a craving for Italian."

"And I couldn't wait until tonight to satisfy my craving for you."

Maura comes within a foot of Jane and then teasingly stops.

"Now, detective, I emailed you earlier that the results wouldn't be ready for another 45 minutes or so."

"I know, doctor, I wanted to be here when they arrived."

Maura now approaches a little closer. Jane does not budge from the door.

"And what exactly did you have in mind to fill the time?"

"You… I always have you in mind."

"I see… but we don't want others to."

Maura nods in the direction of the blinds as she now stands before Jane.

"Close them, please, but don't make it too obvious."

Jane does as she is ordered to do. The second complete privacy is assured, both women indulge in a deep, long kiss. Maura quizzically pulls back.

"Have you been drinking on the job?"

"Korsak and I had a quick lunch with the commissioner… he prefers his nooners in a glass."

"And you couldn't say no?"

"It would look bad if I did… besides, it was top shelf."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"And I'm going to pretend those hands of yours weren't chopping up a brain earlier."

Maura's mind wants to continue the discussion but her body wants to continue the kissing. Jane's mouth is already attacking hers again. Body: 1, Mind: 0.

The kissing quickly intensifies as the detective pulls the doctor closer into her. Maura's fingers rapidly unbutton Jane's powder blue long-sleeve shirt and untuck the edges from her gray pants. Isles drops to her knees as she unfastens the belt containing Rizzoli's shield and weapon.

"Babe, be careful with those."

"I know… we wouldn't want an accidental discharge."

Maura cautiously sets aside the belt and now begins to taunt Jane by playing with her zipper. She mercilessly tugs it down about an inch and then looks directly up at her willing captive.

"And how exactly did you want me to fill your time again?"

"You know how…"

"I do."

Isles lowers the zipper another inch and encircles the rim of Rizzoli's navel with the tip of her tongue. Jane responds with increasingly ragged respirations. Maura continues to torment her until the magic word is spoken.

"Please!"

The next several minutes are a swirl of silent pleasure. Jane gently but firmly holds Maura's head in place with her left hand while desperately clinging on to the doorknob to remain upright with her right.

Rizzoli's heart is already pounding out of her chest when approaching footsteps and a loud knock send it flying across the room. Isles is not bothered in the least for she has firm faith in her lock and continues her ministrations. The voice of Frost is heard outside.

"Dr. Isles, are you in there?"

She now switches her oral skills for sentence structure.

"I'm on a long-distance conference call to South America, please come back later!"

"Sorry… have you seen Jane?"

"I know for a fact she's in the building – try the stairwell, you know how she likes to hide in there after eating stuffed peppers."

"Right, thanks!" 

The incredulous look on the detective's face is instantly changed back to delight as the doctor leads her away from the door and settles her down on the sofa. Another several minutes are devoted solely to satiating Jane.

"Maura!"

"Shh… this office is hardly soundproof."

Jane grabs a pillow and holds it over her face.

"Don't suffocate yourself, either."

"Stop… talking…"

One final flourish of fingers and tongue finishes off the flushed detective. Done with her lunch, the doctor tosses aside the pillow muffler and crawls up to Jane's face. Maura looks her in the eye and sweetly kisses her.

"Not that I don't enjoy you sprawled out on my sofa with your pants around your ankles but go in my bathroom and freshen up, the results will be here shortly."

"M'kay."

Jane sighs softly and watches as Maura discretely wipes her mouth. As she goes to get up, the taller woman delicately grabs the smaller woman's wrist.

"Hey… please don't think that I just came here for this."

"You came here for the test results, too."

"That's not what I meant – I mean that you mean more to me than just this… you know what I mean?"

Maura walks over to her desk and puts her lab coat back on.

"I know, Jane."

Rizzoli finally pulls up her pants and makes her way to the bathroom.

"But THIS is soooooo friggin' gooooood!"

Isles lets loose with an uncontainable cackle.

Moments later, Jane leaves the bathroom with her shirt and pants back in proper order. She heads for the door as Maura sips her tea.

"I'll see you tonight."

"Same time, same place – oh, Jane…"

"Hmm?"

The doctor deliberately draws a line with her eyes from the detective's mouth to her own inner thighs.

"When are you going to return the favor?"

"Soon… I promise."

Both exchange one last sultry smile.

"Wait, don't you want the test results?"

"Email them to me… I need to find Frost on the stairwell."

Within a minute of Jane's departure, Yoshima knocks on Maura's door.

"Come in!"

"Dr. Isles, the cultures are back."

"Excellent."

The assistant hands her the file. As Maura looks through the paperwork, Yoshima goes to say something but doesn't.

"What is it?"

"Uh… I believe Detective Rizzoli's gun and badge… are on the floor… and you might want… to turn over… your couch cushion."

Isles suddenly notices the not-so-subtle wet spot in the middle of the sofa.

"Yes… thank you… Yoshima – are the x-rays up on the light board yet?"

"I will do that right now."

"Please do!"

The assistant leaves the room with an exaggerated eye roll as Maura quickly heeds the suggestion. A minute later, Jane rushes back inside panic stricken.

"I can't find…"

Maura holds up the belt with the missing items.

"Yeah, those."

As Jane hurries them back on her hips, Maura whispers in her ear.

"Your handcuffs are still in my car." 

"I'll get them later."

"Yes, you will."

"Bye."

Rizzoli darts out the door.

"Jane…"

She pops her head back in.

"Avoid Yoshima for the rest of the day."

She looks perplexed.

"Trust me."

She nods and runs off.

Maura giggles to herself over the recollection as Ashok approaches.

"You seem amused – happy memory?"

"Very."

"I have a table for us downstairs, let's go get something to eat."

"What I want to eat is not on the menu but I'll find something else." 

Ashok makes a sour face and shakes it off. He politely takes Maura's arm and escorts her from the table.

"Now, don't load up on bread, I want another dance or two out of you."

"Oh, how I've missed you, Shoky!"

He returns her affectionate hug with a peck on the cheek.

"I'm so glad you're here… in every sense of the word."

As they leave the room, an older man in a corner booth snaps pictures of them with his phone.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4 - Two Spoons

Inside the Rizzoli family home, Jane and Frankie finish a long, difficult day of emtotions by relaxing on the same couch they grew up on, watching the same cartoons they grew up on, as their mother clatters around in the kitchen. Jane makes another futile check of her phone.

"Why aren't you answering me?"

"Would you put that dumb thing away, already?"

"Fine."

Jane puts down her phone and picks up the TV remote. She switches it to a music channel.

"Hey!"

"What? – the metal mania marathon is about to start…"

Frankie snatches the remote away and flips it back to cartoons.

"Space Ghost is next."

"C'mon, you had your turn."

"And my turn isn't over yet."

"MAAA."

"Don't argue with your brother, Jane!"

Angela grins gratefully to herself that her children are alive to squabble with each other. The eldest Rizzoli sibling sighs and folds her arms.

"She always sides with you."

"Lung trumps gut."

"I'll try to remember that the next time I shoot myself."

Those words cause Angela to accidentally drop a plastic container on the floor.

"Need help, Ma?"

"I got it, watch your show."

Decked out in her most mismatched yet most comfortable robe and slippers, Angela brings over two large 'finest of the discount crockery' bowls to her kids.

"Here, I made you both some pudding – chocolate for my favorite son and butterscotch for my finicky daughter…"

Jane and Frankie eagerly grab their bowls and drone in unison.

"Thanks, Ma."

Angela smiles as they smile at the little smiley faces in the pudding she made for them with the whipped cream. She turns and pretends to look out the window to keep from tearing up.

"Wait a minute, how come Jane got more whipped cream than I did?"

"Did she? – I'm sorry, hon, I'll get you some more."

"I guess lung doesn't trump gut after all…"

"I want more whipped cream!"

"Oh, for the love of God, Frankie, stop being a big baby… have some of mine."

"I don't want your butterscotch touching my chocolate."

Jane goes to throw some in his bowl anyway but realizes she doesn't have a spoon. Neither does Frankie.

"Ma, you forgot the… ahh, I'll go get them."

Jane winces as she gets up and stares down Frankie who grabs his chest and fake coughs.

"Bro, don't quit your day job because your acting skills suck."

Jane ambles over to the kitchen and pulls two spoons out of the utensil drawer. Angela is putting the clean dishes away in the cabinet when she realizes her lapse.

"I can't believe I forgot the spoons, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Ma, no big deal."

"I've been a little distracted today."

"We all have."

"Did the McAllisters get the lasagna and deli platter I sent over?"

"They did – Mrs. McAllister said she was going to call and thank you… sometime."

"You know, I could have been the one serving the food today at this house…"

"I know, Ma."

Jane feels herself shrink into the floor as her mother softly sobs. She swallows down her own emotions and reaches for a glass of water. Mrs. Rizzoli wipes her nose and waves her hand in front of her face.

"I wanted to be there at the memorial, but I just couldn't… I couldn't."

"Don't worry about it, everyone understands."

"Your father said he saw you talking to Maura… how is she?"

"She's good."

"ARE YOU LOOKING FOR MY SPOON IN CHINA, JANIE?"

"GET OFF YOUR LAZY ASS AND COME GET IT, FRANKIE."

"Kids, please!"

"Sorry, Ma."

Jane pretends to chuck the utensil at her brother but carefully tosses it over to him. Frankie snags it out of the air with one hand and makes a smug expression at his sister. She responds by wrinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out at him.

"Jane, how is Maura really doing?"

"Um, I don't know for sure… I actually wanted to talk to you about that."

"I hope you gave her a big hug for all of us."

Overhearing the conversation, the middle Rizzoli offspring can't help but chime in.

"Oh yeah, Janie gave her a good hug alright, a very special hug, didn't you, Sis?"

"Frankie."

"It was the kind of hug that leaves you wanting more hugs just like that… all the time."

"Frankie!"

"And Janie is ready to give Maura that Rizzoli kind of hug anytime… anywhere… she needs it."

"FRANKIE."

Angela now hugs her daughter.

"That's very nice of you, sweetie, I hope when you were giving it to her that you said it was from all of us."

Frankie nearly chokes on the combination of his laughter and pudding as Jane glares at him from across the room. Angela is confused.

"What's so funny?"

"Space Ghost, man, he rocks!"

Angela still has no clue as to what's really going on. She turns to Jane.

"The next time you see Maura, please tell her I pray for her fingers every night."

Jane drops her spoon as turns several shades of pale. Frankie howls and farts at the same time.

"AHAA, I KNOW FOR A FACT JANIE PRAYS FOR THE SAME THING."

"Oh dear God, I think your brother is having a seizure!"

"He's fine… for now."

"You know Maura saved your life, Jane, by sticking her fingers in your holes."

Frankie immediately buries his head in his arms and squeals.

"I… I didn't know that, Ma."

"Oh, yeah, she had them jammed in there real good…"

Frankie is doubled over on the couch in a coughing fit.

"Are you sure, he's okay?"

"I'm starting to wonder."

Jane burns a hole through her brother with her eyes until he gets himself under control.

"I think you need to find another way to describe what Maura did to help me, Ma."

Angela's face is an instant snapshot of that terrible day.

"Honey… she did what she did to keep you from bleeding to death."

A sudden hush falls over all three Rizzolis as Angela tears up again.

"When your father and I arrived at the hospital, we didn't know what was going on – we finally saw Maura… covered in your blood… there was so much of it, I thought you were…"

Angela is no longer able to keep from blubbering. Jane's eyes are now filling up, too.

"She couldn't talk – for two solid days, Maura didn't say a single word."

"Oh…"

"She wrote everything down on scraps of paper, telling the doctors what she wanted them to do but… it was like someone reached inside her and ripped out her soul."

Jane is full-on crying now.

"When Mrs. Isles showed up, she finally convinced Maura to go home, change out of those clothes and get some sleep."

"I didn't… I didn't even know she was there."

"Oh, she was there – wouldn't leave your side until that very second."

"Then why did she go to London?"

Angela hesitates.

"Ma, please."

"Well, when they went back to Dr. Isles' house, you woke up… it's like you knew she was gone."

Jane tries not to whimper.

"I called her mother and told her that you were awake and asking for Maura…"

"And?"

"That's when I heard it."

"Heard what?"

"Something I never want to hear again."

"I don't understand."

"When Mrs. Isles relayed the message to Maura… there was this glass-shattering scream."

"God, no."

"I honestly thought someone broke into the house to rob them… but it was just, I dunno, she couldn't stop screaming – her mother had to call the paramedics to sedate her."

Jane is now sobbing into a paper towel.

"That's why they went to London, to get away from it all – Mrs. Isles called a couple days later to let me know that they were fine and that's the last I heard."

"I'm so sorry for what I did…"

Angela wraps her arms around her daughter and holds tight. Frankie now comes over and joins the embrace.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, hon – I'm just so grateful that both my babies are here… and that's why I light a little candle every night for Dr. Isles and her magic hands."

Frankie snickers as Jane furrows her brow and contemplates the thought. Angela pulls back and wipes her face.

"I'm going in the bedroom to read my book – tell your father there's a salami sandwich for him in the fridge…

"Ooh."

Frankie's eyes widen as he heads for the magnet-covered appliance.

"I said for your father!"

Frankie halts in his tracks and sighs.

"You two don't stay up too late and get some sleep."

"Goodnight, Ma… and thank you for telling me about it."

Angela kisses both of her kids and leaves for the other room. Jane turns to Frankie with a dead-serious expression on her face.

"You need to drive me to Logan right now."

"Jane…"

"I'm not kidding, Frankie, either take me to the airport or I call a cab."

"Think about this for a minute, Sis."

"What is there to think about? – didn't you hear what Ma said?"

"I heard every word Ma said… apparently, you didn't."

Jane takes a defensive stance and stares down her brother.

"There is a reason Maura isn't answering your messages, there is a reason she's on the other side of the friggin' country, there is a reason she took a two-month temp job on top of a two-week vacation… she needs… to be… away from you… right now!"

Jane releases a combo sigh of desperation, agitation, and resignation.

"She told me… today, before she left, that she was in love with me."

"Whoa."

"Yeah… and that's why I need to go."

"No, you need to stay put all the more."

"Why?"

"Because the Doc knows how to process all that scientific stuff but she doesn't strike me as the type who knows how to handle deep emotions…"

"You're not saying anything new here, Frankie."

"The fact that she told you she was in love with you was a pretty big deal for her."

"It's a pretty big deal for me, too."

"You feel the same?"

"You think I'd be acting like this if I didn't?"

"This isn't some crazy crush?"

"I wish it were that simple but it's far from it… Maura started as my coworker, then she quickly became my friend, then my best friend, and that led to an emotional relationship I never knew I was capable of having, let alone maintaining."

"And the brown chicken, brown cow?"

"What?"

"You know…"

Frankie makes a crude tongue gesture to accompany his singsong voice.

"Brown chicken, brown cow!"

"Are you fucking four years old?"

"Fourteen next week."

Both siblings chortle for a moment before returning to the sober conversation.

"I truly thought the sex would destroy everything…"

"Including the bed?"

"Heh, almost, but it only made it stronger – icing on the cake, missing puzzle piece, all those ridiculous phrases are true."

"Uh-huh… tell me, were you the one who initiated the sex?"

The elder Rizzoli smacks her sibling on the forearm.

"Don't be such a perv!"

"Answer the question, Janie… I already know the answer but I want to hear you say it."

Jane paces around the floor uncomfortably.

"So, what if I did?"

"You want everything on your timetable, always have – you think you can just ride in to San Diego on your white horse, or jet, wave a magic wand, or dildo, and fix everything because 'Super Jane' says so…"

"I sure as hell can't do shit sitting on my ass in Boston!"

"Hey, Maura, the mighty Jane Rizzoli is here and wants to heal you with her love RIGHT NOW because that's what SHE wants – now quit your bitchin' and pop that bra, sweetie, 'cuz baby needs some milk!"

Unable to stop her guffaw, Jane turns away and covers her hand with her mouth.

"Too far with the last line?"

"Bro, you totally had me until that point."

"Sorry."

"I hate to admit it, but you're making some sense."

"Of course I am – Maura is so into you, literally, but you scare the living crap out of her… and that shooting yourself trick didn't do you any favors."

"I needed to do that."

"I know but what if I had croaked?"

"You didn't."

"But what if I had? – it wouldn't have been Maura's fault but you would've always seen her as the woman who didn't save your brother with her miracle medical skills."

"I… didn't even think of that."

"And then she had to go and save you, the woman she's in love with, the woman she works with, the woman she shags in public places with…"

Jane bites her bottom lip as she feels the tears reappear. Frankie folds his arms and leans against the counter.

"I'm guessing they didn't teach the Doc any of that at dead body school."

"No… they didn't."

"I mean, we're trained for this shit and I'm still shitting bricks, you can't shit at all and our folks can't make it though a day without a shitload of tears since it all went down."

Jane looks at him and points her finger in his face.

"Exactly, and we're all here for each other, that's why we're recovering in our childhood bedrooms instead of our own apartments – we've got each other but Maura has no one… and that's why I need to be there for her!"

"Maybe Maura doesn't want anyone around her right now, especially you."

"I just want to bring her some comfort."

"I know, Sis, but it's hard to get comfort from the one person who makes you the most uncomfortable."

Her brother's words hit Jane across the head like a sledgehammer. She begins to weep as her voice trails off into a higher register.

"I don't want anyone else comforting her."

Frankie pulls his sister into a bear hug and hands her a paper towel.

"Do you trust Maura?"

"With my life."

"Then you need to believe that she won't violate that trust – she told you she was in love with you… that was her way of saying trust me and be ready when I'm ready."

"Yeah?"

"Yup – this ain't your ballgame, Janie, it's Maura's… all you can do is wait in the bullpen and keep your arm warm, keep it loose, and when the coach gives you the nod, you come running and bring the heat!"

"Yeah!"

Jane grins and slaps Frankie a high five.

"Thanks, Skipper… how did you get to be so smart?"

"By watching cartoons… and my Big Sis."

"Aww."

"Hey, Jane?"

"What?"

"I think your phone just rang…"

"OHMYGOD…"

Jane flies across the room and dives over the couch to get her phone.

"IT'S A TEXT, IT'S A TEXT FROM MAURA, WHAT DO I DO, WHAT DO I DO?"

"Read it… and breathe."

Jane clutches the phone in both hands as she gasps for air.

"Calm down, calm down."

"I CAN'T, I CAN'T, YOU READ IT…"

She tosses the phone over to Frankie like a hot potato. He catches it and scrolls down.

"Ha!"

"What?"

"Korsak sent you a picture of kittens in a pumpkin…"

"WOULD YOU READ THE MESSAGE FROM MAURA, PLEASE?"

"Ahem… Jane, having dinner, lamb chops are a little dry, did you know that San Diego was first named San Miguel, please stay hydrated, I'll call you soon, Maura."

"That's it?"

"Hey, it's better than a stupid dancing funny face."

"What does 'soon' mean? – is she going to call me tonight, or tomorrow, or next week…"

"She's gonna call you, that's a good sign, remember what I said about being ready when she does."

"What should I say back? – what if I don't say the right thing?"

"WOULD YOU STOP BEING SUCH A GIRL?"

"I am a girl…"

"Fucking another girl… now be the dom that you are and handle this."

Frankie tosses the phone back to her. Jane inhales deeply and releases a slow stream of air through her mouth. She whips her hair back and starts to text out loud.

"My dearest Maura, I am so very happy to hear from you, I have been sick with worry and I want you to know how much I…"

Frankie makes a gagging noise and snatches the phone away.

"Gimme that!"

He deletes Jane's words, types in his own and hits 'send.'

"Done."

"What did you say?"

Jane grabs her phone back and reads the message.

"Sorry about the chops, sucks, I'll grill you better ones when you come home, interesting about San Diego, Ma made pudding, watching Space Ghost with Frankie, goodnight!"

"You're welcome."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?"

Angela calls out from the other room.

"JANE, LANGUAGE."

"Sorry, Ma!"

Jane gets in Frankie's face and growls.

"Whatthefuckisthis?"

"This… is a masterpiece, Sis."

Jane scowls and scoffs at the same time. Frankie gets up and casually proceeds to explain it all like a college professor.

"First of all, you acknowledge her lousy meal without being overly dramatic – then you give her an incentive to return by offering to make her chops…"

Frankie thrusts his hips for emphasis.

"…all moist and juicy…"

"I think I'm gonna vomit."

"Next, you indulge her nerd-gasm without wanting to know more specifics… who gives two shits what the city is called?"

"I do…"

"No, you don't… and then you're letting her know that Ma has your food and beverages all taken care of."

"She should have already known that."

"Finally, you're home with your brother watching cartoons instead of getting sloshed at a titty bar and banging the first chick that even remotely looks like her."

Jane falls back on the couch and regards Frankie with absolute reverence.

"Wicked wow…"

"I should charge you and include state tax!"

Frankie flops down on the couch next to his sister and flips the TV to the music marathon. Jane begrudgingly hugs him.

"You're my favorite brother."

"I'm everyone's favorite brother – now, I guarantee Maura will call you back within 24 hours of getting that text or I will drive you to Logan in a squad car."

Jane playfully pats the top of his head.

"Thanks, Frankie."

"You may be the chess master in the family but I am the CHEST master – heart and boobs forever."

The Rizzoli siblings share a warm laugh and then settle back for the videos. Jane finally enjoys her pudding as Frankie nods off. She pulls up a picture on her phone of Maura smiling directly at her. She took the picture after they ran the marathon together. She whispers softly to herself.

"Call me when you're ready, babe… I'm here."


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5 – Within 24 Hours

Maura strolls along the garden path to the side entrance of her private villa's patio after returning from a Sunday afternoon yoga class. Billy is now a butler for the day as he sets up an elaborate lunch spread of fruits, cheeses, meats, breads, and a pitcher of iced tea.

"Good afternoon, Doc!"

"Ahem."

"Doc-tor Isles… how was your yoga class?"

"Sheer nirvana – the yogini is quite pliable."

"She sure is… or so I've heard."

Billy quickly pours the tea as he attempts to hide his blush. Maura smirks as she nibbles on a piece of melon. He hands her the glass.

"When would you like me to bring your car around?"

"I'm not sure."

"Please let me bring that awesome car around for you."

"Maybe later tonight but I'm spending the rest of the afternoon here – I still have half of my presentation to finish and a rather odd text to contemplate."

"I wouldn't worry too much about your presentation, you seem like the type who knows how to wing it."

"That might have worked when I was your age but it certainly won't pass muster now with MDs and PhDs in the audience."

"Did you say you wanted some mustard?"

"Uh, no, thank you."

"And how about your gentleman friend?"

"Excuse me?"

"Will he be joining you for lunch?"

Maura is genuinely perplexed.

"Is Shoky… Dr. Ramachandran here? – he was supposed to be with Phillip and Khema today."

"It was just one man and he asked me if you were back from yoga yet."

"Hmm… what did he look like?"

"Thin, older, white man with a lazy eye."

"Amblyopia."

"He didn't leave a name."

"No, it's the medical term… never mind – it's most likely one of my fellow conference attendees, I'm sure I'll bump into him again soon."

"Anything else I can get for you, Doc… -tor Isles?"

"That will be all, Billy, thank you."

The young servant departs and Maura scans around her villa with a quizzical stare. With no apparent threat to her well being, except for hyper opulence and gluttony, she continues to consume the lunch while thumbing through a few of the latest fashion magazines.

A brunette model with similar features to Jane is on the cover of _Italian Vogue_. Maura can't help but think of yesterday at the memorial. She closes her eyes and relives every second of Jane's touch in her mind. She licks her own lips in absence of Jane's kiss.

Bang! The sharp sound causes Maura to jump out of her chair and nearly out of her skin. Apparently, a strong gust of wind knocked over the flower vase on the table. With tranquility ruined, the doctor takes a long drink of her tea and checks her phone.

Zero new texts or voice messages from Jane since last night.

"Huh… I wonder what you're doing, Detective Rizzoli?"

On the East Coast, after spending the night on the couch next to her brother, Jane finds herself back at BPD headquarters. It is a mandatory meeting for all the detectives, officers, and support personnel at the same building they were big bull's-eyes in not even two weeks ago.

The smell of bleach used to clean the bloodstains still wafts in the corridors. The busy buzz of staff doing their jobs and the incessant sound of ringing phones and office machines is ever present.

Only those who were there that fateful day are eerily subdued. Frankie is downstairs with his fellow officers in a meeting with their sergeant. Jane slouches in a meeting upstairs with the chief, Korsak, Frost, and others from their division.

They are well into the third hour of the conference. The chief continues to click through charts and graphs on the wall and regurgitate statistics about workplace shootings. Korsak takes copious notes as Frost drops his head between his legs.

Jane momentarily wishes she had shot herself a little higher.

"This is a stupid waste of time, we should be working the nightclub killings we were on before all this happened."

Frost nods in agreement as Korsak shushes them. Barry leans over to Jane and points in the direction of a perky young woman who unsuccessfully tries to pull off blonde and pink highlights in her naturally dark hair.

"Your fan club president is keeping tabs on you every three… two… one."

The woman turns away from the chief and gapes directly at Rizzoli. Caught looking, she bashfully smiles. Jane attempts a smile, fails, and offers a half-assed wave.

"Ugh… what is Candy Kelly from clerical doing here?"

Korsak innocently joins the conversation.

"Taking dictation for the chief."

Jane snickers as she tosses her hair back.

"Yeah, I bet."

"Hey, don't be a sexist jerk."

"My apologies, Gloria Steinem."

"Don't mind him, Jane, he's just jealous because Kelly is always leaving her homemade candy on your desk and not his."

"I always give you first dibs, Vince."

"Thanks, I just love her peppermints."

Barry playfully raises an eyebrow at Jane.

"How about you, Jane – do you like Kelly's peppermints?"

Rizzoli sees where this is going and squints back at Frost.

"I've never tried her peppermints and I don't intend to do so."

"That's right… because you prefer Maura's muffins, don't you?"

The scowl on Jane's face responds for her. Barry continues to twist the knife.

"Why have clerical candy when you can have mm-mmm ME muffins."

"You are so lucky I'm injured."

"I bet you miss those delicious muffins like crazy, huh, Rizzoli?"

"Have you had lunch with my brother?"

"Don't I wish…"

Jane cocks her head with a WTF look. Korsak taps her arm.

"Pipe down you two, the chief is giving us the stink eye."

Too late. The chief tosses his notes on the table and places his hands on his hips. He singles out Jane.

"Is there a problem, detective?"

"No problem, sir."

"Are you sure because you seem to be engrossed in a conversation… maybe you'd like to share?"

"Sure, I'd love to share."

Both Korsak and Frost shake their heads as Jane stands up.

"I'd like to know why we're spending our Sunday in algebra class."

"Oh, so you think this is a waste of time, Rizzoli?"

"Our brothers are dead, we're understaffed, morale is in the toilet, and we're sitting here making pie charts… ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FOR REAL?"

Everyone regards her last utterance with curiosity. Jane turns to Barry with an aside.

"I'm trying a new catchphrase here, let me know if it works."

Frost gives her the thumbs up. The chief swaggers over to Rizzoli and gets right in her face.

"I have a question for you, detective… when will public sympathy for cops killing other cops run out?"

"I dunno, maybe another month or so."

"IT ENDED YESTERDAY."

The silence in the room matches the tension as the chief continues to school his star dick.

"People have already moved on to new parks and roads and sports stadiums, they no longer give a rat's ass about the hole in your gut and I'm starting to do the same."

He now walks around the room.

"This happened in OUR HOUSE, on OUR WATCH – whether it's some foreign terrorist, a gang member with a vendetta, a drugged-out psycho, or one of our own, we are NEVER GONNA LET THIS HAPPEN AGAIN."

A murmur in the affirmative resonates around the room.

"Now, I have to come up with a plan, execute it, and make sure it fits into our already rock-bottom budget which will probably get slashed even more because we allowed dirty cops to go berserk!"

He heads back to Jane.

"I swear to God, Rizzoli, I will make flow charts out of your used tampons if that gives me a viable solution – NOW, SIT YOUR ASS DOWN AND SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH UNLESS YOU HAVE SOMETHING WORTHWHILE TO CONTRIBUTE."

The spittle from his mouth lands on her cheek. Jane reluctantly relents.

"Sorry, chief… I just want to go back to work."

"First thing tomorrow morning, you march over to IA and then finish your counseling sessions before you even touch your shield and weapon… understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now get lost – I'm tired of looking at your face."

Jane slowly gets up and goes to leave.

"Oh, and Rizzoli… welcome back."

The chief extends his hand and she takes it. A quick shake of respect and Jane's out the door.

"Anyone else have anything to say?"

Kelly timidly raises her hand.

"Yes?"

"I think we should consider bulletproof walls… and deskchairs."

Moments later, Jane is pacing in the hall waiting for Frankie to finish his meeting. She stares at the stairwell and pushes away the dark thoughts. She still can't bring herself to go down to Maura's lab.

She feels the phone vibrate in her pocket but assumes it's her mother and casually answers it without looking at the caller.

"Now what, Ma?"

"Is Space Ghost any good? – I've never seen it."

"Maura!"

Not thinking twice about her injury or the bad memories, Jane takes off like a shot down the stairwell.

"Hold on, hold on, let me get somewhere else..."

"Where are you?"

"You know… in the city…"

"Where in the city?"

Jane doesn't immediately respond since she's too busy trying to catch her breath. She spots Frost near the exit and calls to him.

"Barry, tell Frankie he's a friggin' genius and I catch up with him at The Robber."

"Sure thing, Korsak and I are headed over there, too."

Now outside of the main entrance, Rizzoli leans against the side wall. She is pelted in the face by frigid wind and rain but doesn't care. There is silence on the other end of the phone.

"Maura… are you still there?"

"Yes…"

"How is San Pedro?"

"San Diego."

"But it used to be called San Pedro… or is it San Jose?"

"San Miguel."

"I knew there was a San in there – I miss you… I miss you something fierce."

"I miss you as well."

"Do you?"

"I do, very much so."

"Good."

Both women can feel the heat crackle over the line.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"Where exactly are you?"

"Hey, Korsak is taking great care of Bass – are there any special instructions you want me to give him?"

"You're… you're there… aren't you?"

Jane takes a deep breath and wipes the raindrops off her face.

"Yep… chief called us in for a meeting."

There is a noticeable expulsion of anger in Maura's tone.

"Does he honestly expect you to go back to work so soon?"

"We just had a little chat with ridiculous charts and other PC CYA BS."

"Are you physically up to all that?"

"I don't mind, it's better than parking my butt in a recliner and meditating… so, what have you been up to?"

"I just returned from a relaxing yoga class."

Both chuckle at the irony. Their smiles ignite their dimples.

"I guess meditating is good when you're in that humping ninja pose."

"That's not an actual position."

"I think we've officially made it one."

Again with the giggles but they end all too soon.

"Jane… are you okay?"

"A-okay."

"You don't have to put up a brave front for me… ever – it must be strange being back there."

"I'll admit it's kinda weird… well, very weird but the chief is busting my hump again, so same old, same old."

Jane's teeth start to chatter as her lack of coat is now making its presence known. Maura expertly picks up on this.

"Jane Rizzoli, are you outside?"

"It's the best place for reception and privacy."

"Out front?"

"On the steps looking right at my spot – I can't believe I almost bought it here, I always hoped it would be on a boat at sunset or on top of the Green Monster with the Yankees getting their asses kicked, not at a public building next to chewed gum and pigeon poop…"

Maura starts to sob.

"But that's the life of a cop – if you look closely, there's still a little bit of blood, whoops, I mean a dark, reddish-brown stain."

"Jane, please stop."

"Oh, babe, I'm so sorry… I didn't realize what I was saying."

"I almost lost you there."

"Quick, tell me more about San whatever – have you seen any dolphins?"

"You went into respiratory arrest because of the sudden shock to your system, your body seized up, I had to push air into your lungs."

"I remember your mouth on mine… that was one hell of a kiss."

"And you were exsanguinating all over my hands."

"I thought you liked that?"

"WOULD YOU BE SERIOUS FOR A SECOND?"

The hurt and rage in Maura's voice instantly chastens Jane. Tears now mix with the rain on the detective's face. The doctor's voice is unsteady.

"You mean everything to me… I almost lost everything."

"The last thing I saw, Maura, was you rushing over to me and that's when I knew I was going to be just fine – I had full faith in you… especially since you saved Frankie and you once told me where to shoot myself."

There is a long pause.

"I… what?"

"Remember a couple months back when we were trying on bathing suits for that charity thing of yours?"

Maura is trembling but tries to recall the occasion. Jane hesitates but continues.

"I asked you where would be the best place to get shot and you showed me."

"I didn't tell you that so you could go and shoot yourself!"

"It saved me – I would have blown my fucking head off to get Frankie outta there."

There is silence again on the phone.

"Maura… Maura?"

"You need to go indoors, your body is still in recovery which makes you susceptible to..."

"Please don't Doc out on me!"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Can we talk later, please?"

"I'll call you after my presentation, 'bye"

"I love you, Maura!"

But the phone already shows the call ended before the declaration. Jane roars in frustration.

"You're an idiot, Rizzoli!"

She hurtles the phone down on the sidewalk where it breaks into several pieces.

"And now I'm an idiot without a phone."

Jane sinks to her knees and covers her face as she weeps. Korsak ambles out of the building and rushes over to her.

"Jane, what's wrong?"

She whimpers as he covers her with his jacket.

"I need a beer."

"You can't have beer yet."

"I need to watch you have a beer for me."

"I can do that."

"And I need a new phone."

"C'mon, let's get to The Robber."

Korsak gives her an arm and they hurry down the steps toward the bar.

Back at the resort, Billy returns to the patio with a large folder in hand.

"Hey, Dr. Isles, sorry to intrude but you know that gentlemen we were talking about? – he left this for you at the front de… OH, SHIT."

Maura is throwing up her lunch all over herself and the table. She is crying hysterically.

"SHE DID THAT TO HERSELF BECAUSE OF WHAT I SAID."

"STAY RIGHT THERE, I'LL GO GET SOME TOWELS…"

Billy hustles inside and grabs several large bath towels. He mutters under his breath as he returns to the scene.

"Man, the crap I have to put up with for college tuition – HERE YOU GO."

Maura is wildly scribbling on a notepad. As he hands her the towels, she hands him a slip of paper.

"Billy… I need you to get me some drugs!"


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6 – Nine Regions

Inside the resort's large ballroom-turned-medical-conference center, an artificially serene Dr. Maura Isles sits with rigid refinement at one of the circular tables with fellow professional colleagues. Her friend, Dr. Ashok Ramachandran, is currently speaking from the dais about adenosine triphosphate.

Normally, Maura would behold the presentation with rapt attention but yesterday's phone call with Detective Jane Rizzoli sent her into an emotional tailspin. Jane's remark 'you once told me where to shoot myself' echoes over and over again in her mind.

A few months before the situation with Bobby Marino, Isles cajoled Rizzoli into her favorite designer clothing boutique to try on swimwear for an upcoming charity event. Maura mentally replays each frame of where and how the life-altering lesson took place.

They share a changing room where Jane reluctantly tries on the top of a turquoise string bikini.

"Don't look, Maura!"

The abnormally friendly best friend dutifully hides her eyes.

"I am a doctor, Jane – you do not have anything I have not seen before, many times."

"I do so… my anythings, you haven't seen my anythings before, at all."

"Newsflash, we dress together at the gym, I have seen all your anythings."

"You looked?"

"Of course I looked."

"Why would you look?"

"Why would I not look?"

"Because there's nothing to look at."

"There is always something to look at."

Maura peeps through her fingers and impishly grins.

"Just like I'm looking right now."

Rizzoli smacks her onlooker with her shirt. Isles laughs and begins to change into crimson one-piece.

"Jane, I don't mind when you look at me, so I don't understand your sporadic modesty."

"I don't look at you, Maura."

Jane's expression resembles that of a child denying her one hand is in the cookie jar while the other is wiping crumbs off of her face. Maura nonchalantly continues.

"You look at me… all the time."

Jane resorts to a different tactic.

"It's my job to look at people, I'm a homicide detective, therefore, I detect."

"I am a doctor-turned-medical examiner – examine is to scrutinize whereas detect is to discover… mine requires more effort."

"Go scrutinize yourself… better yet, here's some extra effort for ya!"

Jane holds up both middle fingers. Maura claps with excitement.

"Ooh, are you giving me a choice? – I will go with the left since it is your dominant hand, hence more powerful."

Rizzoli rapidly holsters the options as Isles blows a victory kiss in her direction. Unwilling to admit defeat, Jane ponders for a second and tries again.

"I look at living people."

"You look at dead people, too."

"Yes… but… I look at the living people to see if they actually killed the dead people – GOTCHA."

Isles unhooks her bra and fully exposes her breasts. Jane is caught in the blinding glare of two beaming headlights and is unable to look away. Maura winks at her.

"And I got you… yet again."

Jane scuttles away to the corner and ties on the bikini bottom over her underwear.

"I can't believe I let you drag me in here to try on overpriced dental floss."

Maura finishes fitting into her selection and admires both Jane and herself in the mirror.

"Your suit suits you… heh."

Maura is amused by her own commentary. Jane frowns at her in the mirror.

"Why am I the one who has to wear my grandmother's macramé potted fern holder while you get to wear my grandmother's bathing suit?"

With one deft move, Maura pulls the top of Jane's underwear open, takes a quick peek, and then snaps it shut.

"And that is exactly what you will resemble – a potted fern overflowing its macramé holder if you don't do a little pruning."

Jane is stunned into silence but her eyes and face scream, 'I can't believe you just checked out my pubes, you did it, I saw you do it, why would you do it, are you going to do it again?'

"If you are hesitant to wax, I am more than happy to assist you at my house – I have a state-of-the-art trimmer from Belgium, they make more than chocolate."

"No!"

"It would be fun, I could shape it into a dodecahedron…"

"NO."

"Or the Celtics' mascot."

"Nu… hmm… NOOO – there's nothing wrong with it the way it is, I'm Italian, we're hairy."

"I understand the tendency for those of Mediterranean descent to be hirsute."

"Her what?"

"I know Italians can be hairy."

"How do you know?"

Maura develops a sudden gleam in her eye.

"Never mind, I don't want to know how you know."

"Yes, Jane, I have had sex… yes, I have had sex with more than one partner… yes, I am not a nun."

"I can only imagine what kind of 'It's a Small World' ride your wonder cave has been on."

"Pardon me? – did you refer to my vagina as a 'wonder cave?'

Jane sheepishly looks away. Maura persists with glee.

"Are we in the eighth grade… did you want to skip third period English and go French under the bleachers?"

"Quit joking around and let's pick out a suit already."

"Well, considering that you were raised Catholic, I should be grateful you didn't call it Maura's Magical Easy-Bake Baby Oven."

"Please don't make fun of my religion… and I won't make fun of you not believing in God."

"Fair enough."

"But, in order to make you happy… I can only imagine what kind of 'It's a Small World' ride your vagina has been on."

Maura chuckles and turns to whisper in Jane's ear.

"You can always do more than imagine it."

Rizzoli quickly coughs and cowers away. Instead of glimpsing the usual flustered visage on her friend, Isles picks up on an intense look of longing and despair so deep, it causes her to catch her own breath. She walks it back to fashion in a hurry.

"Here, try this on."

"Wait a minute, I'm wearing a barely there bikini in order to cover it up with a skirt?"

"It's a sarong."

"Damn right it's so wrong!"

"You have to accessorize."

Maura holds up some earrings and a wide-brimmed hat to Jane's face.

"Admit it, doctor, you only bring me along because you like playing Barbie doll with me."

"I won't lie, I do indeed, detective… you are beautiful both inside and out and it makes it all the more pleasing for me to highlight that beauty."

They both smile and stare at each other just a little too long. Jane is the first to blink.

"And you like to watch me squirm."

"That, too!"

They laugh off the sexual tension that is rapidly building its own zip code.

"You know, I have a perfectly good bathing suit at home."

"A BPD tank top and your brother's board shorts do not qualify as proper swimwear, at least for this kind of event."

"And when exactly do I get to swim?"

"You don't, it would be gauche if you did."

"So, I'm going to a pool party not to swim and I'm buying a piece of yarn that costs more than my best winter coat in order to cover it up with accessories… you rich people are insane!"

"We do our best… especially for charity."

"You never did answer my question before – why don't you wear the string bikini?"

"I am too top heavy to pull off that look unless the event is for adult film stars… besides, it is the perfect fit for your shape."

"You mean a flat-chested Popsicle stick?"

"You have breasts, you just need the right cut to accentuate them."

Maura tightens the ties on the back of Jane's bikini top and turns her slightly to see her sexy profile.

"And why exactly would I want to do this?"

"Don't you want to attract someone special at the event?"

"I have no trouble attracting men."

"Funny, I don't remember saying the word 'men'…"

Jane whips around and stammers.

"Where... um… is the best place on my body for a bullet?"

"What?"

"Where is the best place to get shot – I was always curious about that and you docs must know."

"Well, that's a rather morbid thought!"

"We're in a rather morbid business."

"Nowhere is the best place to get shot, Jane."

"I'm serious here, Maura."

"I wish you wouldn't be."

"Just answer the question… ma'am."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, I know how much you hate that."

"Fine, the extremities."

"No head or extremities – use only the torso."

Maura sighs and rummages through her purse. She finds her cream rouge and slowly approaches Jane.

"What are you going to do with that?"

"You want a lesson? – you're going to get one…"

Maura opens the rouge and dabs her index finger in it. She is practically on top of Jane when she slowly descends to her knees before her. Jane instantly turns into an ice sculpture and does not breathe.

"I'm going to draw two vertical lines, also know as lateral lines here…"

Maura slowly traces the lines down the left and right sides of Jane's abdomen.

"And now I will draw a horizontal line called the transpyloric plane here… and another one called the transtubercular plane here."

Jane's abdomen now resembles a tic-tac-toe board with her navel in the center square. Maura's touch is causing all sorts of trouble.

"Aww, _cutis anserina_, how cute!"

"Cute what?"

"You're experiencing piloerection."

"WHAT?"

"The goosebumps reflex."

"Oh, yeah, right, sure."

"Are you cold?"

"Exact opposite."

"Shall I continue?"

"Please."

Maura blocks off the entire section of middle squares.

"No to anything here because the spine and aorta are dead, and I literally do mean dead, center."

"Okay."

"Not to mention your reproductive organs are in the hypogastric region, you may want little hairy Jane babies later on."

"Uh… maybe."

She now knocks out the upper right and left regions.

"Too many major organs in these areas that could be in jeopardy."

Jane tries to maintain her composure but her respiratory rate skyrockets. Maura now considers the next level.

"The lumbar regions involve the kidneys, so they're questionable."

"I'm one wicked pisser, especially after a few beers."

"And that leaves us with the left and right iliac or inguinal regions…"

Maura swaps out the cream rouge for gloss and traces the outline of her lips with her finger. She languidly plants a very noticeable kiss print on the right side while maintaining constant eye contact with her subject. Jane is helpless to control the quivering.

"Bull's-eye."

"Oh."

"Now, I prefer the right over the left since your descending colon is on your left."

"Wh… huh?"

"Your main poop chute."

"Wow… that just killed the mood."

"Did it? – let me hit the reset button…"

Maura takes her pinky and seductively dips it in Jane's bellybutton.

"Did that button work or should I try another?"

Maura remains in her position and silently gives Jane the twinkling eye. She is more than ready to provide additional lessons on Jane's command. Ultimately, Rizzoli balks and Isles decides not to push it.

Unfortunately, on her way back up, Maura spots Jane's two extremely pronounced nipples.

Unable to control her childlike impulse to touch things that fascinate her, Maura casually pinches them causing Jane to fling herself back against the wall all aghast and WTF. Maura frantically attempts to explain herself.

"I couldn't resist, they look like thumbtacks – I could hang a calendar on them…"

Jane gives her the WTF squared face. Maura rambles on.

"But no one uses paper calendars anymore since they are now an app on your mobile phone – did you know that there are solar calendars, lunar calendars, and lunisolar calendars? – sometimes, I forget that bodies still have their owners inside of them – I should always ask permission first, please forgive me, I will keep my hands to myself."

Jane gives her the WTF cubed face. Maura resorts to her signature smile to save the day. It does. Jane frees herself from the clutches of the wall and cautiously sorts through her clothes. Maura cheerfully chirps away.

"We're best friends and this is what best friends do!"

"If you say so…"

"I would have showed you on myself, Jane, but I am sensitive in that particular quadrant due to an old fencing injury – I learned that épée is not my forte the hard way."

"Oh, really?"

Maura is too entranced with some bracelet selections to notice Jane approaching from behind.

"You mean, right… right here?"

Rizzoli begins to tickle her there. Isles unleashes a sharp cackle.

"Stop it."

The tickling intensifies.

"Are you sure it isn't over here, Maura, or how about maybe here?"

Maura is unable to respond because she is laughing so hard. They both begin to calm down and settle into light giggles. Jane continues to enwrap Maura in her hold. Both lean into it and linger a little too long.

"Best friends forever."

"Mm-hmm."

A sudden, loud knock on the door startles them both apart. Rizzoli instinctively throws herself in front of Isles in a protective stance. The suspicious voice of the store owner is heard.

"Is everything okay in there, Dr. Isles?"

"Ah, yes, please bring us that saffron wrap – I want to see how it contrasts with the accessories."

"I'll go get it for you."

As the footsteps trail away, Jane is irritated by the owner's attitude.

"What's with her?"

Maura deliberately does not answer.

"Should I tell her I'm a cop? – does she think we're shoplifting in here or something?"

"Or something."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she thinks we were doing something else in here."

"What else is there to do in… oh."

Maura winces and shrugs. Jane bolts out of the room.

"I'm gonna go look at some boots!"

Two seconds later, Jane returns to the room where Maura is waiting with Rizzoli's shirt hanging from her finger.

"I need my… thanks."

Isles is jarred out of her reminiscence and back to the present with the sound of polite applause. Ashok has finished his part of the presentation.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen…"

He casually makes his way over to Maura's table and takes a seat at her side.

"Now, I know my speech wasn't that insufferable."

She looks right through him. He snaps his fingers at her.

"Hello… Maura, where are you?"

"Oh, sorry – wonderful job, Shoky."

"Righty then."

He abruptly snatches her purse away and opens it.

"Give me that!"

After poking around, Ashok pulls out an amber bottle of pills and holds them up. He is both baffled and relieved.

"A beta blocker?"

"I didn't want to go down the benzodiazepine route."

"Are you participating in a symphony concert I'm unaware of or are you that nervous about giving your presentation tomorrow?"

"Not about my presentation, I am that nervous, period… I have been for a month."

"A month? – the shooting was a couple of weeks ago."

"It will be exactly one month tomorrow when I started having sex with Jane."

"I see."

"I spoke with her yesterday – our conversation was fine until I realized where she was…"

"Which was?"

"Where she almost died… in my arms."

Ashok leans back and shakes the bottle.

"I believe I might need one of these before this is through."

"Oh, and she casually blurted out that I was the one who taught her where to shoot herself…"

He tries to find the words but can't. Maura's hollow expression is haunting.

"The resulting emesis reproduced my lunch all over my new yoga pants and the patio table."

She drones on.

"Like a helpless toddler, I had to have Billy, my ubiquitous manservant, bring me towels to clean myself and then drive my six-figure car to go fetch the prescription I wrote in order to prevent my sudden panic attack from turning into a massive heart attack."

"I highly doubt it would have turned into a MI… an embarrassing mess, yes."

"Are you daft? – did you not hear what I said, Ashok? – do I need to speak it slowly in Marathi or draw little stick figures in a coloring book?"

"No need to be rude, my dear."

"The woman I love shot and nearly killed herself because of a random conversation we had about rudimentary abdominal anatomy in the changing room of a dress shop."

"Maura, you seriously cannot blame yourself for this."

"Then, whom?"

"Try the corrupt lunatic who tried to murder you both – not Jane, and most certainly not you."

Isles considers his words carefully and then holds out her hand.

"May I have my beta-adrenoreceptor antagonists back now, please?"

He reluctantly passes her the pill bottle.

"I'm keeping my eye on you."

"Fine, do you have any further questions for me, Inspector Ramachandran?"

"No, but if your girlfriend ever asks you about open heart surgery in a wine bar, please defer to another topic!"

As Ashok takes his leave, Maura notices Detective Korsak's name flash on her phone. She nearly drops it rushing to answer.

"Vince – is Jane alright?"

"I'm fine, Maura…"

"Jane? – why do you have Korsak's phone?"

"Long story… actually, it's a short one – I threw my phone and it broke."

"Why would you do that?"

"Forget about that, listen, I'm sorry about yesterday, I speak before I think sometimes... I know you said you'd call after your presentation and I want to respect that but I also wanted you to have this number, you know, just in case."

"Of course."

"So, take care of yourself and knock 'em dead tomorrow… or, um… something, 'bye."

Before Maura can respond, the call ends.

"I love you, too, Jane."


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7 – The First: Part 1

Inside Shuckin' Chuck's Chowder House, Jane Rizzoli drowns a basket full of deep-fried clams with malt vinegar and then wolfs them down. Detective Frost arrives for a mid-day meal and a chat with his still-recuperating partner. He throws off his jacket and slides into the booth.

"Mmm, those look good."

As he reaches for one of the clams, she swats his hand away.

"All mine, order your own."

"So, you can have greasy food now?"

"We'll find out soon."

"Aw, man."

"Don't worry, that's why I picked the booth next to the bathroom."

"How appetizing."

"Don't give me that, you just came from a bloody crime scene."

"Yeah, I'm getting better with the bodily fluids before lunch bit."

Barry holds up his hand to a passing waitress and points to Jane's clams. She asks for a refill on her water.

"Where's Korsak?"

"He's still on site… the vic is a young woman this time."

"Details, please."

"Jane, you're not back yet."

"Barry, c'mon!"

"You know the chief will have my hide if I tell you about the case."

"Like I'm gonna say something – besides, he's too busy dicking around with diagrams to notice."

The waitress brings their request. Jane snakes one of Barry's clams.

"Hey!"

"I just wanted to see if yours were better."

"Thief."

"Go call my brother… he's a cop."

"He wears the uniform well."

Rizzoli raises an eyebrow and Frost chuckles.

"How much longer are you two going to be staying at your folks' house?"

"I'm going back to my apartment in a few days – I'm sure Frankie will milk it for at least another week to get his laundry done."

"You know your parents love you both dearly, be grateful to have that… a lot of people don't."

"Yeah, I know… that's why it's so hard to tell them."

"Tell them what, Jane?"

"Never mind – is the latest vic involved with the DJ?"

"We're not sure yet – could be the girlfriend or some unlucky patron."

"That's three clubs in two months now – it's not random anymore."

"Agreed."

"I need to go over my notes on this case and clear the cobwebs out of my head."

"How did IA go today?"

"How does IA ever go?"

"Did you see the counselor?"

"Dr. Cohen… yep, fun times with a little old lady."

"I like her, she's a sweetheart – she was there for me when my cherry got popped."

Jane pauses a gulp of water to squint at Barry.

"The first time I shot someone."

"Right."

"You should feel free to discuss everything with her, Jane, she's really good."

"Nah, she reminds me too much of my elementary school librarian – that chick scared the crap out of me."

"The librarian or the naked African women in the National Geographic magazines?"

"How am I supposed to answer that with you?"

"Be creative."

"I was already creative with my answers earlier… I will tell Dr. Cohen whatever she wants to hear in order to get my gun and belt bling back."

"That's not how it's supposed to work."

"Hey, I will look at a piece of paper with a bunch of spots on it and tell her it's a bridge to my hopes and dreams and then sell that bridge to nowhere like an Alaskan politician."

"Do you really think your hopes and dreams are a bridge to nowhere?"

"Ugh, not you, too!"

Suddenly, Jane's phone vibrates. She nearly drops her glass to retrieve it.

"Christ, another message from one of Korsak's animal rescue groups – sorry, I thought it was from Maura."

"When is she going to call you?"

"After her presentation today."

"Tell her I said hi and remind her that the West Coast is no East Coast."

"Will do."

"And why exactly do you have Vince's phone?"

"He let me borrow it since mine kinda fell out of my hand… hard."

"After the Bobby situation, we'll all be getting new ones through the department soon."

"Will they be monitoring us?"

"Oh yeah, Big Brother time, baby."

"How dumb is that – like a rotten cop can't find a non-company cell phone to do dirty deeds on."

"Yes, but the phone calls won't be on the taxpayers' dime."

"Ooh, lookie, lookie, Mr. Mayor in da house, yo!"

"Don't try to be black… ever."

Jane grins her dimples at him and counters with a bad fake Italian accent.

"Eh, I let a-you tell me how to make da meatball."

"Because I know how to make meatballs – your Mama and your Maura aren't the only ones."

"My Maura?"

"Your Maura."

"Mmm, my Maura… she's the only doctor with an opinion that matters to me."

Rizzoli's stomach starts to rumble and she makes a sick face.

"Uh-oh, spoke too soon."

Barry jumps up in a hurry to leave. He grabs his jacket and takes his leftovers to go.

"I'll give you a call later when I find out more details…"

"Can I give you a high-five or do you want me to shake your hand?"

"How about a quick hug if you promise not to puke?"

"Sure, why not – consider it prep work for your future in politics."

"Do I have your vote?"

"Only if you bump up the public safety budget."

"Deal."

The two share a warm embrace.

"Hang in there, partner."

"Thanks, Frost."

As he scoots out the door, Jane asks the waitress for a ginger ale. She thinks back to exactly one month ago – the last time she had fried clams and the first time she kissed her Maura.

They were finishing up a long day of work by bringing the case home to Jane's apartment. Rizzoli is straddling her kitchen chair, polishing off her second helping of Shuckin' Chuck's take-out while Isles chatters away on the couch about the club scene and the history of House music.

"…whereas UK hard house is a more powerful version of Chicago house but French house has a lower bpm – that's beats per minute."

"Uh-huh."

"In fact, a lot of today's pop music is predicated on the sounds of the 90's rave scene."

Jane darts up and makes her way to her liquor cabinet.

"Sorry, you lost me at 'today's pop music'…"

"Maybe it would be more engaging to you if we watched some old videos?"

Jane tries not to snore by fetching a double shot of bourbon.

"While this is all very interesting, Dr. Dancefloor, tell me more about the drugs."

"By chemical name, brand name, generic name, or street name?"

Jane slams both shots with one long swallow.

"This is gonna be a long night."

"I'm not entirely convinced that the two murders are related, nor are they necessarily tied to illegal narcotics."

"One murder at a nightclub is random, two DJs getting gunned down in a month is more than a coincidence and three homicides become a pattern… I want to solve this before number three happens."

Maura watches as Jane pours herself another shot.

"You won't be solving much of anything if you keep hitting that bottle with both hands."

"I'm thirsty."

"Try water."

"Try shutting it."

"I don't think I've ever seen you drink this much hard liquor before."

"Eat your clams, please… sorry it's not your fancy frou frou food."

Jane plops on the couch next to Maura who dangles a deep-fried delectable in front of her best friend and then pops the golden goodie in her mouth instead.

"Yum, I love hot Ipswich clams, especially when they burst in your mouth."

"Heh, I'm sure you do."

"Do you have any kalamata aioli to dip them in?"

"Yeah, I just picked some up the other day – it's on the shelf next to the beurre de blah blah blah… no, I don't."

"Do you have any malt vinegar or do I resort to ketchup?"

"I do have vinegar, yes."

Jane gets up and goes to find it. Maura calls after her.

"The kind that comes from a grape, not your sarcasm!"

Jane makes a facial equivalent to drinking a shot of vinegar and opens the door to her refrigerator.

"Do you wanna long neck beer to go with your long-necks?"

"I'd prefer some wine."

"All out."

"What happened to the bottle of Gewurztraminer I brought over last week?"

"Ma found it."

"Then, I'll have some bourbon, thank you."

Rizzoli generously pours a shot in the glass and brings over Isles' requested items, along with the shot for herself. Maura is listening to an original track from one of the slain DJs and dissects it with each head bob.

"Most excellent… reminds me slightly of John Digweed with a little bit of The Chemical Brothers thrown in."

"Care to tell me how this is not drug related again?"

"I won't deny that it is a significant part of the culture but we cannot assume a connection until the tox screens come back."

"Maybe you can call up some of your rich friend party pals and see if there could be another non-narcotic connection like they were all sleeping with the same Hollow-Wood starlet or maybe belonged to the same charity foundation – 'underground grooves for underprivileged youths'…

"Stop mocking."

"Pick a finger, Maura."

"Promises, promises, Jane."

"Long night for sure."

Jane drains the remains of her drink as Maura gives her a withering glance.

"You've been in a foul mood all week, Jane Rizzoli, and it's not even our cycle time."

"Maybe I should just dance around like a chicken with my head cut off, huh?"

"Why don't you? – I know you know how."

Maura instantly taps her phone and calls up _Callisto_ by Dash Berlin & Shogun. She leaps up and starts to caper and sway in perfect unison with the beat.

"I just knew you were looking for any excuse to play that overblown disco tribal trip hop hip hop bippity boppity boo crap that you love so much."

Maura tugs at Jane's hand.

"Come, do it with me!"

"No."

Maura only jacks up the volume and continues her rhythmic prancing.

"Jane…"

"I said no and I mean it."

"Coward."

"Hey!"

"Forgive me, I meant to say chicken… sans caput."

"I don't care for dares."

"How about the truth is that you know I can out undulate you, so you are afraid to play?"

"Is that how you want to play this, Freckles?"

"I will play it any way you want, Stretch."

Jane vaults up and matches Maura, move for move, as they bounce around the apartment. During a slower piano section, both are somewhat surprised by the lack of personal space between them but do not separate. For the first time, Jane does not flinch when Maura brushes against her. They lock eyes and grow even closer. The soft turns and holds linger.

The beat builds again sending them back to their earlier bounce for the remainder of the song. Finally, both Jane and Maura collapse back on the couch, more than slightly sweaty and out of breath.

"See, wasn't that fun?"

"I need to shower with some wailing electric guitars…"

Maura sighs and smiles her signature smile.

"I'm so sorry our victims were not pool hall bartenders with arena rock blaring from speakers next to the neon beer signs."

"Because beer is for peasants… come right out and say it, Maura, you know you want to."

"And dance music is for queers, isn't that right, Jane?"

Rizzoli swallows her breath and her saliva at the same time causing a combo choking/coughing fit. Isles pats and rubs her back.

"Take small breaths through your nose and release it slowly through your mouth."

"Went down the wrong pipe, that's all."

"Larynx… it's call the larynx."

"I'll be sure to make a note of that."

"You probably wouldn't know how to spell it."

"Wow, apparently I'm not the only one in a mood."

"Hard liquor makes me feisty."

"Hard liquor makes me horny."

Both realize that Jane said those words out loud but neither has the courage to follow up on it. Maura politely gets up from the couch and takes her empty glass and plate to the kitchen. She refocuses her attention back to the main topic.

"Because something is foreign to you, please don't criticize it until you know more about it."

"Seems to me all DJs are spoiled brats with too much time on their hands."

"Some DJs are indeed connected to the upper echelons of society but many of them are true avant-garde artists."

"I guess that makes my dog an artist when she howls at sirens."

Maura shakes her head as she takes a seat across from Jane. Her impish grin returns and is accompanied by an eyebrow wag as she directly stares between her tipsy colleague's thighs.

"I know you possess a broad brush but try not to paint everyone with it."

Rizzoli instantly crosses her legs and rejects the double entendre entreaty with a dose of reality.

"You know, when I was growing up, Pop's work was never steady and I had to juggle three shitty jobs in high school just to keep my family off of food stamps, so forgive me for not shedding a tear over a couple of dead playboys who thought their thumping noise was the next Mozart masterpiece – in fact, my still-intact eardrums are doing a little happy dance."

"Please don't revel in someone else's misery."

"I'm not reveling – well, maybe a slight fist pump and a hip bump."

Maura now gets up and slowly walks in back of Jane who is slouching on the couch. She bends over and gently wraps her arms around the neck and shoulders of her friend.

"I am truly sorry that burden was placed on you by your family when you were young… but your Schadenfreude is showing and it's not at all attractive."

Rizzoli returns the embrace by reaching for Isles' arms and squeezing them. She softens her tone.

"I thought his name was Sigmund?"

"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar… or a clam."

They both groan as Jane rises from the couch and turns to face Maura.

"I'm sorry, I have been a bit of a bitch lately… an unhappy ghost from the past is haunting my thoughts."

"You know you can talk about it with me."

"I know, but I'm not ready to share yet."

"Okay…"

Maura takes her purse and coat and heads for the door.

"Where are you going?"

"It's late and I'm tired, we'll go over the case more in the morning."

"You can stay here if you want, your pajamas are still in my closet from the last time."

Isles considers the offer. In fact, she was hoping it would be made since she was ready to fall asleep on her feet.

"Are you sure? – I don't want to impose."

"Please, the bed is yours – I wanna catch some scores and then I'm right behind you."

"Great, thanks."

As Maura disappears into the bedroom, Jane takes another shot of bourbon directly from the bottle.

"Ginger ale, detective?"

"What?"

Rizzoli is snapped from her month-a-go memory by a smiling waitress.

"Do you want another ginger ale?"

"Just the bill, please."

"No charge for hero cops, the owners insist."

Jane looks over to see an overly enthusiastic couple smiling and waving at her.

"In that case, I'll have a big piece of blueberry pie, thanks."

"Coming right up."

As Jane waits for the dessert, her phone goes off again. She answers it without looking at the screen.

"Lady, for the last time, I can't take your kitten."

"How about doing something else with my pussy?"

"Maura!"

Jane crouches down in the booth and nervously fidgets with her hair."

"Hey, how are you?"

"Better now that you are my audience."

"How did your presentation go?"

"My slideshow of emphysema aquosum left them breathless, ha!"

Rizzoli is not quite sure how to respond. Isles switches to another topic.

"How are you feeling, Jane?"

"Borderline… we'll see what happens with the pie."

"Do I dare ask where you are?"

"Shuckin' Chuck's."

"Ooh, clams!"

"I know."

"I remember the last time we had clams…"

"One month today, why do you think I'm here?"

"I wish I could be there with you."

"Get on a plane… right now."

"Jane."

"Look, I know we have issues to work through, Maura, but let's make this real easy – you, me, and a mattress, okay?"

"I wish it were that simple…"

"It can be… it can be anything we want it to be."

"It needs to stop being hidden, first."

The silence is deafening. The waitress brings over the piece of pie and asks Jane if she wants ice cream to go with it. Before Rizzoli can answer, Isles answers for her in her ear.

"Absolutely not, Jane, I forbid it – you keep pushing your GI system, it will push back in a very ugly way!"

Jane nods her head yes to the waitress and gives her the thumbs up. It's a risk she is willing to take.

"I have an idea, why don't you do your presentation for me?"

"The entire thing?"

"Sure, why not?"

"It's an hour and forty-five minutes…"

"And that's an hour and forty-five minutes I have you all to myself."

The break in Rizzoli's voice triggers an audible gasp from Isles. Jane takes a deep breath and continues.

"I miss you, Maura – I honestly don't know what to do about this whole thing but I do know how to do it to you and I want to do it better, so please let me."

There is a too-long pause.

"The effects of saltwater on human decomposition by Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner to the Boston Police Department and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts…"

Maura makes it through the first ten minutes of her presentation before Jane interrupts her.

"Um, the combo of deep-fried seafood, ultra-rich pie, and the discussion of briny brains is a little too much, sweetie, sorry… BLECH, gotta go, URRP, I'll call you later!"

"Make sure you stay hydrated!"

Rizzoli hangs up and bolts to the bathroom with her mouth covered.

On the other side of the continent, Isles slides her phone back in her purse and excuses herself from the main conference room. She steps outside and finds an isolated bench. She wants some alone time before the next panel discussion begins.

She takes a seat and thinks back to one month ago and replays the aftermath of their atypical friendly work dinner. Maura slips her silk pajamas on and comfortably settles in Jane's bed. Happy as a clam with a belly full of steamers and booze, Maura slowly drifts toward dreamland pondering the epidemiology of vancomycin-resistant enterococci.

The detective joins the doctor between the sheets after the evening sports recap. Maura is vaguely aware of Jane's presence but thinks nothing of it at first. They sleep together quite frequently as platonic best friends so often do.

It isn't until the spontaneous movements of slumber are replaced with careful, deliberate advances on Jane's part. She cautiously coils her limbs around Maura's and inches her way closer to her face. Rizzoli's serpentine motion unnerves Isles because she is rapidly becoming aware of what is about to happen.

And it finally does.

_P.S. I apologize for the delay. My real profession pays for the real bills and it takes precedence on occasion. I will continue to update this story throughout the new season, whether or not I continue to watch the series. Thanks!_


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8 – The First: Part 2

_**Author's note: **Yeah, I deeply apologize for an unexpected vacation and being a hired slave to neocon Catholics. I continue to be frustrated with the current state of R&I but I still adore the Jane and Maura characters (at least, the first season versions of them). For all of you who have emailed me, thank you very much for your kind words, and, yes, I will finish this fanfic for sure – enjoy!_

As Dr. Maura Isles sits alone on a bench outside the conference room entranced in her recollections, one of the earlier panel speakers makes his way over to her. An extremely fit middle-aged man with graying auburn hair, a tailored suit, and stylish eyeglasses smiles and offers his hand.

"Dr. Isles, hello, I'm Dr. Dune Hereford of the USC Microbiology Department – it's a pleasure to finally meet you!"

Maura takes his hand and gently shakes it.

"Oh, Dr. Hereford, yes – we are quite the discussion board buddies, so glad we could meet in person after all of this time."

He has yet to let go of her hand.

"Please, call me Dune, I insist."

Maura retakes possession of her hand and politely smiles. Inside of her head, she hears the braying of Jane: 'His name is freaking Dune, DUNE… are his brothers Forest and Glen gonna show up? – don't you rich people have normal names like Mike and Jim?'

Isles lets loose with her signature guttural chuckle.

"I'm sorry, did I say something amusing?"

"I deeply apologize… Dune… I am still slightly giddy from giving my presentation today."

He takes a seat next to her on the bench without asking.

"And it was an amazing presentation – I am deeply fascinated with your diatom corollary…"

Maura notices that he is staring directly at her breasts. Suddenly, Jane's voice echoes in her head again: 'Oh, I'm sure he's fascinated with your diatoms, especially since they're spelled with double D's… he's lucky I'm not there to poke his four eyes out!'

She shifts her position to draw Dune's focus back to her face. He is still chattering away about the presentation and his own clinical findings. It holds her interest for about five minutes.

This is nothing new for Maura. She has been the recipient of this kind of attention from men, and more than a few women, since cleavage arrived in her early teens. It always confounded her that she could be in the midst of the most sophisticated, scientific discussion and it would still boil down to primal lust. And, on occasion, she would give into it.

These medical conferences were nothing more than a convenient setting for the participants to get drunk and to get laid. Dr. Hereford embodied her classic scholarly type and, normally, she would have been half way to bed with him by now. However, since a certain tall, dark detective entered her life – both physically and emotionally – no other human has harbored her heart.

Dune's mouth was moving and his pharynx formed words based on research and academia. But his eyes communicated something entirely different. It's a look she has seen a thousand times, including in the eyes of her best friend. But it was never sustained long enough to prompt action.

That is, until one month ago.

"Dune, I am so sorry to interrupt, but if you will excuse me, I need to be elsewhere."

"Uh, okay… will I see you at the formal dinner tonight?"

"Of course, see you then… goodbye!"

Isles takes her leave of the wooden bench and its counterpart and hurries back to the confines of the conference. She stations herself in a corner of the crowded room which, somehow, offers her more privacy than her earlier choice.

She loses herself in the drone of a new panel and thinks back, without further interruption, to that tectonic night with Jane when typical tomfoolery turned into something more.

Maura could smell the liquor on her friend's hot breath as her face inched closer to her own. Isles was absolutely awake but kept perfectly still. The full weight of Rizzoli's body was now entwined with hers. There was no misinterpreting the intentions as soft, tentative kisses dabbed the doctor's lips.

It was a moment Maura had been wanting, anticipating, hoping for since the very first time she met Jane. She just never thought it would happen. Well, it was happening at last.

The doctor could sense the detective's hesitancy between lip locks and did not want to spook her. But she had no intention of playing dead, either. So, she responded by mirroring the detective's actions which only caused them to intensify. Maura cautiously wrapped her arms around Jane's broad shoulders and her legs around her slender hips.

The kissing was soon accompanied by heavy sighs and gentle moans. As her body basked in triumphant eroticism, her mind was able to separate and engage in a full-on debate with itself. The superego, which sounded a lot like her mother and Dame Judy Dench all rolled into one, calmly advised her to weigh the options.

"Darling, please be aware of the precarious situation you are putting yourself in by allowing sexual intimacy between best friends and close colleagues to occur. This may be what you want right now but is it truly what you want for your future?"

Then, another opinion from the ego spoke out with the voice of a French schoolgirl.

"S'il te plaît protège mon cœur!"

The rebuttal was given by the id, aka "Animal" from The Muppets.

"JANEJANEJANENOWNOWNOW."

As the three sides were making their points, Isles was completely caught off guard by the abrupt invasion of Rizzoli's tongue deep inside of her mouth. This caused her to squeal and then giggle uncontrollably. It was a combination of sheer joy and nervous laughter.

Unfortunately, Jane took it the wrong way and every muscle in her body seized up. She dismounted Maura like an Olympic gymnast and scurried to the very edge of the bed with her back to her not-yet-fully-fuckable buddy. She then pulled the comforter over her face for emphasis.

"Oh, no, no, no, wait – Jane!"

The doctor sidled next to the detective and gently tickled her neck with her fingertips.

"That wasn't a critique on your technique or your physique, heh."

Rizzoli physically cringed. Isles drew back the comforter and nuzzled her would-be inamorata's ear.

"It's just that I wasn't expecting it so soon, I mean, I was, and I wanted it, and I still want it, I want it everywhere, your tongue is much more elongated than I'd originally thought, and that's a good thing, it's a very good thing, I'll shut up now, please kiss me!"

Jane grabbed a pillow and used it as a physical barrier between the two of them. A defeated Maura retreated to the middle of the bed. She made one more attempt at oral intercourse.

"Did you know that vancomycin-resistant _Enterococcus faecium_ and _Enterococcus faecalis_ could transfer their resistance to methicillin-resistant _Staphylococcus aureus_?"

Jane shrieked from her side of the bed.

"REALLY?"

Rizzoli pulled the comforter back over her face and pretended to snore. Isles smacked herself on the forehead for being foolish and rolled over to her own edge of the bed. Maura stayed awake for another hour hoping that Jane would make another attempt. But the detective did not and the doctor eventually fell asleep.

The next morning, Isles woke up to an empty bed and the harsh morning light of Rizzoli's bedroom window. Jane already left for work and Maura decided to do the same. She first stopped at her house to shower and change her clothes.

There was nothing on either her cell or house phone from her friend. A gnawing pit of fear widened in Maura's stomach as she wondered if their friendship was permanently damaged. She was unable to eat her breakfast and headed off to the office with trepidation and remorse as her traveling companions.

The doctor busied herself with mundane lab work for the first half of the day. No sign of the detective. Yoshima was kind enough to bring her some vegetable soup for lunch but Maura was only able to swallow a few spoonfuls before she felt like retching.

Tears filled the corners of her eyes as she chastised herself for allowing her best friend's alcohol-fueled advances. Frost came by later with some paperwork and mentioned that Rizzoli was out in the field all day with Korsak. The chief ME of MA felt slightly reassured but she knew they were avoiding the inevitable.

It was after 6:30 in the evening when Maura left her office. There were no calls or messages from Jane and no sign of her in the building. As she stepped off the elevator to the underground parking lot, Isles rehearsed potential conversations in her mind as to what happened between them and why it happened. She didn't want to take the 'blame the booze' route but it was the path of least resistance.

All of the sudden, she looked up and found Jane leaning against the driver's side of her car, hands in pockets, leg crossed, head down. The detective didn't say a word, she just swaggered around, popped the passenger door and held it open for the doctor. Maura's heels hurried across the asphalt as she accepted the ride.

They sped out onto the street and it was another five minutes before Rizzoli broke the silence.

"Korsak and I came up with some new ideas that I want to run by you."

"Certainly."

"We'll go to my place if that's okay."

Maura was about to answer when her stomach grumbled a response. Jane cocked an eyebrow.

"Someone's hungry."

"Starving, actually… I didn't have much to eat today."

"We could stop and grab a quick bite if you want."

"No! – I mean, I know we can find something in your kitchen."

Jane looked Maura in the eye at last and offered a half smile.

"Are you sure about that?"

Maura returned the smile and winked at Jane.

"Most definitely."

Rizzoli hit the accelerator and they arrived at her apartment after a brief battle with traffic. Once inside, they both had become uneasy yet somehow managed to drift into the kitchen without speaking. Jane rummaged through her refrigerator and pulled out a couple of beers.

"I'm sorry, the beverage situation hasn't changed from last night… if you don't want a beer, there's water."

"I'll have some more bourbon, please."

"Uh, sure, sounds good."

Jane returned the beers to their shelf and went for the liquor cabinet. Maura decided to rummage through the refrigerator. She fetched a couple of items and zeroed in on the stove.

"Do you have any nutmeg?"

Jane blinked in confusion.

"Never mind."

"Maura, you don't have to get all fancy, I can whip us up a grilled cheese."

Isles held up the cheese, mustard, eggs, a packet of ham slices, and milk. She tilted her head and grinned.

"Great minds do think alike."

"What's all of that other stuff for?"

Maura already placed the butter in the pan and grabbed the bread, flour, salt, and pepper.

"A half-assed Croque Madame… where's my beverage?"

Jane snapped forward and handed her the glass. Maura downed it in one gulp.

"More… if you don't mind."

The detective followed suit and downed her drink before refilling their glasses. The doctor finished preparing their supper and they both took a seat at the kitchen counter.

Rizzoli launched into a rehash of all the crime scene scenarios and explained a few new ones that, in truth, weren't really new. Isles pretended to listen intently while she devoured her meal. Afterwards, they made their way over to the couch.

A few times, Jane jumped up from her seat and paced anxiously as she went over the layout of each nightclub, the surrounding vicinities, and the stats of each victim. Maura wondered if she was deliberately trying to stall. An hour later, she'd had enough.

"I believe it is time for me to go, Jane."

Rizzoli halted in mid-sentence, her eyes wide with the look of longing and desire that Isles recognized so easily in others. It was more than a flicker and undeniably there.

"Go where, Maura?"

"To bed."

"Are you tired?"

"I really, really want to go to bed."

Maura flashed the deadly duo of dimples and teeth and now stood before Jane.

"So, am I staying here or am I going home?"

Even with her dark complexion, Rizzoli's blush was noticeable to Isles' trained eye.

"You can… you can stay here… if you want."

"Yes… I want."

Maura hurried toward the bathroom as Jane eyed the kitchen. Maura called out before she reached the door.

"Leave the dishes for morning."

Jane was dumbfounded that Maura knew what she was about to do and flipped her hair back. She tried to turn on her TV but Maura beat her to the punch one more time.

"Red Sox over the Rangers, 6 to 4."

A moment later, Isles stepped out of the bathroom in only the pajama top from the night before. Rizzoli took one last swig directly from the bourbon bottle as Maura paused at the bedroom door. Her voice was low and deliberate.

"Are you coming, Jane?"

The detective took another long swig and then released a short breath.

"I'm about to, Maura."

With that, the doctor returned to her side of the bed and calculated the possible length of time it would take for the detective to resume her position from the night before. It didn't take very long at all. Jane was down to her underwear in under ten seconds.

Rizzoli slid under the sheets and made her way over to Isles in one hasty move. The awkward, schoolyard kissing from the prior night commenced again but it was soon replaced by an eager expertise. No more giggling. No more fake snoring.

As the arousal grew for both, Maura fought every fiber that screamed at her to match or surpass Jane's touch. She wisely understood that this had to be the detective's show and she could only be the supporting player, not the lead.

At least for now.

The doctor donned her professor persona and proceeded to teach her pupil without being blatant. Between heated breaths, they both fumbled anxiously with the pajama top until it was finally free. It fell to the side of the bed like ship shedding its sail into the salty sea.

Jane quickly found Maura's breasts with both of her hands. It was like two starfish trying to pry open adamant abalone shells. Then came her mouth. Being left dominant, Rizzoli automatically latched on to the right nipple with gusto and was reluctant to let go, even for air.

Isles suddenly felt sympathy for Angela's early motherhood days. The moment of inappropriate pondering passed as Jane ultimately left mammary land and explored other, lower regions of Maura's body. Rizzoli's hands arrived at their intended destination but, unfortunately for Isles, her mouth never went south of her navel.

Even with the darkness of night drowning out most of her vision, the doctor was still able to make out the detective's wide black and white eyes peering at hers in utter panic. This was suddenly becoming far too real for Jane and she wasn't sure what to do next with Maura.

In a split second, Isles had to decide whether this was to continue or if it needed to cease altogether. She absolutely did not want it to stop. So, in one delicate move, Maura rolled over on her stomach and joined Jane's hand in hers. Her fingers provided the proper guidance and the unspoken permission was given.

Literally being on top, the detective was now in a natural position of strength and ease. Her skittish fingers became blunt and forceful, just like Jane herself. The doctor moaned her approval and, after several more minutes, she felt herself starting to go. However, she did not want to startle her star student with the definition of the word 'loud.'

Maura muted her euphoria and her body relaxed into a state of liquid instead of a solid. Jane was well aware of what she had caused by being the catalyst. She grinned victoriously between her friend-now-lover's shoulder blades and allowed a small laugh to escape against the soft skin.

Isles turned slightly and was met with a mouthful of kisses. Her frequent Rizzoli fantasy was now a fervent reality. Jane's fun with fingering and fondling continued sporadically throughout the night but she would not allow herself to come undone. The two kissed and remained in each others arms until sleep forced them to surrender.

The next day was almost an exact replica to the one before with Maura awakening to an empty apartment and very little interaction between the two of them at the office. They went about their business as usual. A passing heated glance in the elevator was broken up by a boisterous beat cop and his caustic collar.

Once again, the doctor left her office in the evening but Jane was not there to meet her in the parking lot this time. Maura started off to her house in her own car and grew more and more anxious with each passing mile. Did Jane suddenly get cold feet? She loathed that expression since it was nonsensical when applied to an actual medical condition.

Did she do something wrong? Doubt was apparently going to be her dinner companion for the night. Immature insecurities rushed over her as she pulled into her driveway. She contemplated her options as she opened her door and retrieved a delivery package from the step – yet another pair of black boots. There was no such thing as too many.

Isles was sorting her mail when the text came: **My place at 10**

She snickered out loud when she read it. Relief replaced worry and excitement edged caution. These eleven characters spelled 'sex' with an exclamation point. There was no pretense of going over the case. There was no question mark allowing the chance to decline. It was declarative. Jane wanted it, wanted her, badly. And Maura felt the same.

At 10:00 pm on the nose, Isles knocked on Rizzoli's door and was met by a slow, silent ogle. Maura deliberately brushed past Jane, ignoring the bottle of bourbon in her hand, and nonchalantly dropped her scarlet trench coat to the floor. There was nothing underneath except her new laced-up thigh-high boots.

"I can't decide if those boots make you look like a pirate or a streetwalker."

"Which do you prefer?"

Maura confidently climbed on top of the kitchen counter and remained on all fours, waiting for Jane to jump her.

"The tox screen results came back – we could compare the findings of both victims and have at it with conjecture… or we could have at it another way."

An audible gasp was heard from the detective, followed by a whispered, 'sweet Jesus.' It didn't take long for the doctor to be entirely covered by an animated second skin.

Isles knew her own satisfaction was secondary to what was essential for Rizzoli. The lecture on why an over-stimulated nerve experiences the exact opposite effect of what was intended would have to wait. There would be plenty of time for in depth anatomical lessons later.

Right now, Jane needed to be feral. She needed the enhanced visualization along with the physicality in order to feel freer with her newly unleashed sexuality. The sweaty groping and groaning gave way to a more urgent need and Maura felt herself being carried quickly off the counter and into the bedroom.

She landed prone on the down comforter gracelessly. Her hips were pushed up and her boots yanked off with two fast tugs. With the ambient light, the doctor saw the detective's reflection in the mirror of the wooden vanity. Jane finally flung her tank top across the room and slid off her shorts as she slid under the sheets.

The doctor correctly deduced that this was the night that the detective would allow herself to fully participate in the ecstasy. Maura offered her body and soul over as the colorful but calm carousel ride. Then she became the cheesy western bar mechanical bull – whatever was necessary, whatever it took.

Midnight passed and the steady transition to Triple Crown thoroughbred was finally finished. Jane had won the race of her life. Unfortunately, the victory ceremony in Maura's arms was short lived as Rizzoli clambered out of the bed and ran into the bathroom. Isles called after her but heard nothing except a slammed shut door.

As much as the doctor hated to guess, the evidence was overwhelming. For the first time, the detective permitted herself to reach orgasm by the hand and mouth of another woman. And this was why she was softly sobbing on the other side of the door. Maura knocked gently but Jane's non response was her crystal clear answer.

A verbal exchange of emotions was not the best antidote at the moment, so Isles held her tongue for another time. She waited patiently by the door for her lover to come out in every way.

Maura woke up the next morning by the bathroom door with the comforter draped over her shoulders and a pillow placed under her head. There was no sign of Jane. She made her way to the kitchen where a pot of hot coffee awaited her along with the daily newspaper. The word 'sorry' was scrawled above the headline in Jane's distinct cursive.

"I'm sorry, too, Jane."

Maura spoke these words out loud as she ended her memory of last month and returned to the present. The final panel of speakers concluded and the room rapidly emptied of its occupants. As she walked the corridors, the doctor decided to check on the detective and her overstressed stomach. She opted for calling instead of texting. Jane answered immediately.

"Hi!"

"Are you feeling better?"

"I'm okay, Maura, stop worrying."

"Never, Jane."

"I took some of that disgusting liquid stuff your fellow witchdoctors gave me and it worked like a charm, an evil charm."

"And a lucky one."

"Lucky for those using the toilet after me."

"Because you have behaved like a brat, it is back to the BRAT diet for you, detective!"

"I'm frigging tired of frigging toast."

"If you are a good girl, I might let you have cinnamon toast."

"What if I'm a bad girl, then what?"

The two exchange seductive guffaws.

"Are you all done with your symposium stuff?"

"Sort of… I do have to attend the dinner tonight but the speakers are done for the day."

"You still have to finish the rest of your presentation for me… preferably naked."

"I do not want to send you hurtling into the bathroom again."

"Oh, you will, but for a different kind of reason."

Again with the guffaws. Maura suddenly spots a man at the end of the hall.

"Ooh, amblyopia!"

"Amble what?"

"The guy with the lazy eye."

"What guy?"

"The guy who is following me."

"THERE'S A GUY FOLLOWING YOU?"

"I think he might be associated with the conference, he seems harmless."

"HE SEEMS HARMLESS?"

"I need to go, Jane."

"NO, MAURA, WAIT…"

Isles clicks off her phone and canters over to the older man.

"Excuse me, excuse me, sir!"

The man does not move and is expressionless.

"Yes?"

"My name is Dr. Isl…"

"I know who you are, Maura."

The menacing tone to his voice stops her cold.

"I… I wish I could say the same."

"Did you read the file I left for you?"

"That, well, that met with an unfortunate accident – I lost my lunch all over it… I believe Billy has it drying out on my patio."

"Read the file, Maura."

"Couldn't you just tell me…"

The man leans forward and comes within an inch of her face. She tries not to stare at either of his unsettling eyes.

"Read the file!"

He turns and walks away. Isles takes a deep breath and retrieves her phone. It is flashing like a lightning storm with Rizzoli's name all over it.

"Jane…"

"MAURA, WHERE ARE YOU?"

"I'm right here, everything's fine."

"IS THAT MAN STILL THERE?"

"He's gone."

"What did he want?"

"Some kind of file, probably related to a research topic."

"Now, it's my turn to yell at you for being dumb… don't you EVER, EVER, EVER hang up on me when you're in a potentially dangerous situation, you got that?" 

"Got it."

"Good, I gotta call SDPD back and cancel them out."

"There was no need for the SWAT team."

"Nah, I didn't bother with those goons but I did have a helicopter ready to go."

"Just one?"

"Budget cuts."

"Heh, I need to go and get ready for the dinner…"

"Will you please call me later and check in?"

"You'll be asleep by then."

"Wake me up."

"You need your rest."

"Wake me up, Maura."

"I will… goodbye, Jane."

With that, the doctor returns to her villa and prepares for the evening's formal feast and festivities. Once again, she nearly forgets about the file until the application of mascara causes her to remember 'Mr. Amblyopia.'

Half zipped in a lavender Marchesa cocktail dress, she rushes out to the patio to collect the sun-dried file. She opens it and inspects the contents. She screams as the pages fall to the ground.


	9. Chapter 9

Part 9 – Three Images

It is after midnight in the childhood home of Jane Rizzoli. As _Booksmart Devil_ by the Silversun Pickups plays softly in the background, she tosses and turns in her sleep. All is calm except in her dream where the modern streets of downtown Boston are transformed into a dark, fiery Gehenna.

All lights are out. All windows are broken. All trees are bare. A light snow begins to fall. Wearing her usual work slacks, black boots, and white button-down shirt, the detective surveys her unreal reality. She notices her gun and badge are missing from her belt while piles of twisted metal and other debris belch sulfurous smoke around her.

She is covered in soot and sweat.

Jane now finds herself loping in slow motion along a deserted boulevard and makes the sudden realization that her hands are restrained behind her back with standard police cable ties. She scours around for a familiar landmark. Nothing. Blue lightning flashes.

_So believe_

_So believe_

_In streetwise angel_

_So believe_

_So believe_

_In booksmart devil_

Rizzoli rounds the corner and spots the dull shine of a metal chair in the distance. It is identical to the ones used in the department's interrogation room. She approaches with extreme caution due to the lifeless body propped on top of it.

Now inching closer to the comely corpse, the detective vaguely recognizes this scantily clad woman wearing a horned tribal mask over her face. Jane is unable to resist and reaches out for her hand. The figure instantly springs to life at her touch and begins to rhythmically sway.

_So retreat_

_So retreat_

_From land-locked lover_

_With anchored armor_

_Sobering_

_Sobering_

The woman pulls the detective into her dance as her fingers seductively trail along the detective's strong arms and back. Jane is unable to fight her arousal. She finds herself moving in unison with the temptress. The woman entwines herself even more with Jane as her fingers slide around the bound wrists. The ties instantly disintegrate into dust and release Rizzoli's hands.

With the newly found freedom, Jane gingerly grabs the woman by the neck with one hand and swiftly removes the mask with the other. A bodacious Maura, with her eyes on fire, smiles back at her. She softly releases Jane's ponytail and pulls her into a hard kiss. It lasts until Rizzoli's knees buckle and she falls back into the metal chair.

A knowing cackle fills the air as Maura mounts the chair and its occupant. Jane acquiesces with delight. The fiend in the form of Isles makes her way down the detective's torso with each unfastened button and then pauses at the buckle. Rizzoli's non-verbal communication encourages her to continue. She does.

_So believe_

_So believe_

_In streetwise angel_

_In booksmart devil_

_Sobering_

_Sobering_

_Sobering_

_Sobering_

The belt is slipped out of its loops and is used to form a new restraint around Jane's hands, behind her back. Again, there is no resistance. Before Maura commences, she shoots her target one final gaze and unleashes a large, red, forked tongue. Rizzoli is undaunted and moans in approval.

In the midst of receiving pleasure, the detective discerns several faceless figures emerging from the shadows. They encircle them both and point with scorn and derision. Maura ignores them and continues with her objective. Suddenly, the old scars on Jane's palms and the new ones on her flank begin to bleed.

She screams but no sound comes out of her mouth.

"Wake up, wake up, Janie!"

The eldest Rizzoli sibling snatches the hand of her younger brother as she jerks upright up in her bed. She scans around in a state of panic and wipes the perspiration rivulets from her forehead.

"Frankie, what the hell?"

"It's just a dream, that's all."

Convinced he speaks the truth, Jane lets out a huge sigh and reclines against the headboard.

"Aw, God… I hate these meds!"

"Me too."

"They make my dreams ten times more vivid."

"I know – I had a really bad nightmare last night."

With a look of concern, Jane places a comforting hand on Frankie's shoulder. He can barely get the words out.

"I was…"

"Shh… you don't have to talk about it."

"I was… salt water taffy."

Jane squints into a sideways glance.

"What?"

"You know, taffy."

"I know what taffy is, Frankie… and?"

"And what?"

"And what else happened?"

"WHY WOULD ANYTHING ELSE NEED TO HAPPEN? – I WAS A MOTHERFUCKING CARNIVAL CONFECTION – THAT'S MORE THAN ENOUGH."

"Ooh, 'confection,' someone's been having fun with Maura's thesaurus again."

"At least someone's been having fun with something of Maura's."

Jane leans forward and snarls in his face.

"HEY."

Frankie leans back and holds up a hand.

"WHOA."

The two take a deep breath.

"Sorry."

"Chill."

Jane attempts seriousness and pats her brother's forearm.

"So, no one tried to eat you?"

"Oh no, that's your hot sex dream!"

"Whosaiditwasasexdream? – Ididn'tsayitwasasexdream – Ittotallywasn'tasexdream…"

"Riiight – mmm MAURA, MAURA – I couldn't tell if it was 'Maura' or 'more-ugh' but it sure didn't sound like you were in pain."

"Oh crap… do you think they heard?"

"Ma had the TV blaring but Pop was on his way to the can."

"Noo."

"I told him you were dreaming about Fenway and the ump blew the call… you were yelling, 'MORON, MORON.'

"And he believed you?"

"C'mon, it's Pop."

"Nice save, little bro."

The two share a quick hug as Jane checks the time on her phone. She shakes her head and bites her lips. Frankie notices.

"Didn't you talk to her tonight?"

"Maura was supposed to check in with me after her boring dinner but I guess the rubber chicken wasn't that dry."

"Awww, oooh."

"Knock it off."

"You know, Jane, people do other things after dinner like fall asleep, or watch TV, or – in Maura's case – read boring books about boring shit like boring city names."

Jane nods in agreement with Frankie. He pushes a little more.

"Or they also have hot sex dreams about their girlfriend…"

She gives him The Look.

"Relax, sis, it doesn't mean Maura forgot about you."

"She did say she didn't want to wake me up."

"See? – always looking out for you – by the way, she stares at your face like you're the friggin' sun, moon, and sky all swaddled in a blanket of stars."

The detective nearly falls over in astonishment.

"Where in the world did that come from?"

"It's the drugs."

"Or too many cheesy get well cards."

"You know what I'm saying is true because it's the exact same way you stare at her…"

A guilty smirk silences the sister as the brother becomes reflective.

"And it makes me want what you've got, Janie."

The elder Rizzoli's eyes widen with a, "I might share my pizzelle with you but I will never share my girlfriend with you" kind of look.

"No, not the actual Maura, you dimwit, I don't have a death wish."

They both share a lighthearted chuckle.

"I mean, this whole shooting thing has got me thinking."

"So, that's what it takes, Frankie?"

"Shuddup."

"Go on."

"I want someone who looks at me the way you two look at each other… or at least I want a rich hottie with huge knockers."

"How about a public service pay buddy with a huge cocker?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind."

"If it bothers you so much, why don't you give her a call?"

"What happened to Mr. Play It Smooth?"

"You didn't let me finish… call her up and tell her all about your hot sex dream, could be fun."

"Don't make me break out the wax paper, Taffy Boy."

As Frankie gets up to leave, he takes a whiff and fans his nose.

"Eh, you might wanna light a candle or something, sis, it smells like the time in junior high when I walked in on you with a fashion magazine in one hand and the other doing those special 'finger exercises'…"

He does air quotes with his hands and then impishly changes it to a cruder gesture.

"They were legitimate exercises and they helped improve my trigger finger."

"Yeah, sure, your hands must be so strong by now, you could be She-Hulk."

"I would never be She-Hulk, that's a lame-ass character…"

"True, you're more of a Huntress or Batwoman type."

Jane stands up and does a dramatic face and pose. Her voice drops even deeper.

"Don't you know who I am, brother? – I am HERO COP OF BEANTOWN, I stop speeding bullets with my abs of steel, get greasy meals comped by grateful citizens and…"

"And leap on small MEs with a single bound."

Jane whaps Frankie on the butt with her pillow and teases him.

"At least I never had a poster of some Baywatch bimbo taped to my ceiling to see if I could 'reach' it… and not with my hands and feet."

Frankie grabs the pillow from Jane and whaps her on the head.

"You damn well wish you could and you know it."

Jane grabs another pillow and the two break out into a competitive tussle. It ends up on the floor with Jane pinning Frankie down and Frankie shoving his foot in Jane's face. They try not to laugh too loudly but it is hopeless.

"How many times have I taught you to defend your lower left, Officer Rizzoli?"

"Smell my foot, Hero Cop!"

The door flies open with Frank Sr. scowling in his bathrobe.

"KIDS."

Jane and Frankie instantly stop what they're doing and scoot back in silent obedience.

"Don't put your foot in your sister's face, you're a gentleman…"

The Rizzoli patriarch now turns to his only daughter.

"And you, don't beat your brother up, you're a lady."

"Sorry, Pop."

"Yeah, sorry, Pop."

He shuffles towards them with a stern look. His face softens into a smile.

"Heh, like I raised a lady and a gentleman!"

All three crack up simultaneously as Frank Sr. bends down to kiss the tops of their heads. Jane and Frankie grin at each other and their father.

"Now get to sleep before your mother wakes up… no one wants that."

"Goodnight, Pop."

Before he leaves, he spins around.

"Aw, shit… I forgot to mention something."

His anguished look and a sigh of defeat instantly set off alarm bells in his offspring.

"What's wrong?"

"Your mother didn't have the heart to tell you..."

Both Jane and Frankie seize each other's arm.

"OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD."

"Are you two getting a divorce?"

"No… not yet."

"Who has cancer?"

"No one has cancer."

"Did you lose the mortgage money playing poker again?"

"Hey, I actually won last time!"

"Did Tommy bust out of the clink?"

"Relax, your brother is still behind bars."

"Oh, thank God."

"It's none of that… it's much, much worse."

Frankie whimpers as Jane voice jumps up two octaves.

"Just tell us, just tell us."

"Your Aunt Celeste, your cousin Marie, and Marie's boys are coming for a visit…"

Frankie does the sign of the cross as Jane clenches her hands in prayer and grimaces.

"You both need to get the hell out of the house so they can stay in your rooms."

"Do they know we were shot?"

"That's why they're driving up here from Secaucus."

The mention of the name Secaucus sends both Rizzoli siblings into stifled guffaws. Frank Sr. is bewildered.

"What?"

Frankie looks at his sister, makes a face, and adopts a zany voice.

"Busch Gardens."

Jane howls with laughter as she slumps completely to the floor. Frankie pinches her toe.

"Now I know why you found that so funny all the time."

Their father is still befuddled.

"I think the docs gave you two too many pills."

Angela's voice is heard from down the hall.

"What's going on in there?"

"Aw geez… NOTHING, GO BACK TO SLEEP."

Jane catches her breath and steadies herself.

"I've reverted back to my childhood staying in this house so long – I'll be gone by tomorrow, Pop."

"Thank you, sweetheart, but make sure you're here on Saturday for the barbecue… I'm not dealing with your mother's side of the family all by myself."

Frankie mutters under his breath.

"I was hoping to stay a couple more days until Ma did the wash."

Frank Sr. glowers at his son.

"Check your shorts."

Frankie sulks and folds his arms.

"I said check your shorts!"

Frankie reluctantly pulls open the waistband of his boxers and peeps down quickly. Jane looks away and tries to hide her smile. Frank Sr. continues to glower.

"What are you?"

"A grown man."

"A what?"

"A grown man!"

"And what does a grown man do?"

"His own laundry."

"That's right, he does."

"But it never smells as good as Ma's!"

"Get to bed you two, goodnight."

Frankie slowly gets up and follows his father out the door. He lingers for a moment and queries his sister.

"How come you never have to check your shorts?"

"Because I know what I am."

"At least you finally do now…"

He pretends to shut the door but pops his head in at the last second.

"And it rhymes with bike!"

Jane chucks the pillow at the door right as it closes shut. Now completely exhausted, Jane checks her phone one last time. She decides to text Maura before she goes to sleep.

_**sweet dreams oxox**_

The phone instantly rings. She wasn't expecting such a rapid non-text response.

"Hello?"

"Why aren't you asleep?"

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I'm calling you now."

"But you didn't call me earlier."

"But I'm calling you now."

"Because I just texted you."

"And that's why I'm calling you."

"Why didn't you text me back?"

"Because I'm calling you now."

"But why didn't you call or text before?"

"Would you prefer me to hang up?"

"GRRR."

"Let's try this again."

Maura ends the call and then rings back several seconds later.

"Hello, Jane."

"Dr. Isles."

Maura's voice instantly turns low and husky.

"Ooh, I see… would you like me to play doctor with you, detective?"

"Nope… still kinda mad at you for not checking in earlier."

"I sincerely apologize for that oversight, I didn't want to wake you."

"Well, I'm awake now."

"But your body needs the rest."

"My body needs your body… and your forked tongue."

There is a pregnant pause.

"Care to explain?"

"Maybe later – how was your dinner?"

"I didn't attend the dinner."

"Then what, prey tell, were you attending?"

"You're adorable when you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous… simply curious."

"Mm-hmm."

"M'kay, maybe a little jealous."

"For your information, I was in my room – alone – all night."

"Are YOU feeling alright?"

"Only a little tired from all of the seminars, I wasn't up to a formal dinner."

"Maura Isles not up to a formal dinner? – you must be wicked exhausted."

"Heh, never too tired for you, Jane… now, tell me all about this forked tongue fantasy."

"Tomorrow night for sure when I'm back at my own place."

"I see… one of those fantasies, hmm?"

"You're wearing one of your creepy tribal masks and I'm Hero Cop of Beantown."

Maura can't help but snicker.

"You will always be the hero cop of my beantown!"

"Good to know."

"I love you, Jane."

"Oh, I love you, too, Maura… you're making me crazy miss you again."

"Oops, sorry, get some sleep, goodnight."

"Until tomorrow night…"

Jane clutches the phone in a faux embrace before she sets it down. She shuts the music, the light, and settles into a contented sleep.

On the other side of the bed and country, Maura inhales deeply as she places her phone on the nightstand. She picks up the manila envelope from the mysterious 'Mr. Amblyopia' and rechecks the contents she sorted through earlier. She is still shaken by the subject matter.

She studies the first black and white photo of herself speaking with Paddy Doyle at the precinct during the investigation of her half-brother's murder. The following words are written on the back of the image:

_**I wonder which one…**_

The next black and white photo is of a shopping trip along the Avenue des Champs-Élysées she took with her mother last spring in Paris. More writing:

_**Makes you the most…**_

The final black and white photo prominently features Jane kissing and doing other things to her after the memorial service in the parking lot of The Garden. The last word is emphasized:

_**VULNERABLE?**_

Maura tosses the photos aside and covers her mouth to keep from crying. The final sentence is written on the outside of the envelope:

_**I don't want money but I do want something else from you. I will be in touch!**_


	10. Chapter 10

Part 10 – "Four Tops"

The next day, Jane is sitting in Dr. Cohen's office. Much to her chagrin, these IA counseling sessions continue to drag on and on and on. Rizzoli is perched uncomfortably on a circa 1970's vinyl chair. With her arms folded and leg bouncing, she is having a stare off with the doctor. She does not win.

"Is there anything else you would like to discuss?"

"I'd like to discuss when I'm getting my Glock and shield back."

"We haven't finished our time together yet."

"Are we ever?"

"That's up to you, Jane."

"Actually, it's Detective Rizzoli… but I can't do much detective work if you won't sign off on my case."

"I'm not signing off because we still have work to do."

"And I have real work to do – you know, solving murders, not psychoanalyzing my childhood."

"We haven't talked about your family at length, although it's fairly obvious how important they are to you considering what you did to save your brother."

"I would have done the same for anyone."

"Would you?"

"Of course."

Dr. Cohen skims her notes through owl-like glasses and scribbles something down.

"You do have a history of taking risks."

"Yeah, it's called being a cop."

"Some would say you went well above the required course of action."

"Please tell me what the required course of action is when headquarters is under siege from dirty 5-0 with automatic weapons."

The counselor senses an escalation but continues to jot down her notes. Jane rubs her nose and hisses.

"Did I miss that page in the handbook, Dr. C?"

The doctor parries as Jane attempts another verbal stab accompanied by theatrical gestures.

"Ooh, and were there pop-up pictures with the scratch n' sniff scent of blood?"

"Your sarcasm is an attempt to deflect from the core issue."

"Deflect, really?"

"Yes."

"JESUS CHRIST, LADY, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?"

Dr. Cohen responds with silent observation. Jane reigns in her temper and tries to find a way out.

"Since you're Jewish, I figured you wouldn't mind if I took my Lord's name in vain."

Without missing a beat, Dr. Cohen taps her pen on the desk and responds.

"Jesus was a Jew."

"OH, GREAT… it's bad enough my girlfriend is an atheist, now I have to play religious volleyball with another doctor."

Dr. Cohen raises an eyebrow.

"Girlfriend?"

Rizzoli looks away in disgust because she was just stripped naked and caught in her own steel bear trap.

"She… is a friend… who happens to be a girl."

"Um-hmm."

The doctor writes furiously in her notes.

"Don't 'um-hmm' that and please don't write that down, it has no relevance to whether or not I can work my frigging cases!"

"I assume we're talking about Dr. Isles."

"And why do we assume that?"

"Well, considering she's the only one I constantly see you with here…"

"We're doing our jobs."

"And at the Boston Pops, and Chez Henri, and the marathon, and…"

"You've made your point."

"And… she is the one who saved your life."

There is a long moment of silence as Jane's eyes drop to the floor. The doctor flips through her notepad.

"During our time together, you have only mentioned one other woman – your mother."

"Heh, how I could I not mention Ma?"

"Actually, you've brought up Maura's name more times than Angela's."

"I didn't know you were keeping count."

"Do you have any other female friends?"

"I… I do."

Jane quickly scrolls through her mental Facebook.

"I have more than four."

"Remember, you cannot count Maura or your mother."

"Four tops."

"Please tell me about them."

"There's, um, the lady at the dry cleaners who always gives me a break on my pantsuits, uh, Kelly in clerical who leaves homemade candy on my desk, Sister Agnes, and, almost forgot my cousin Marie."

"And how often do you have social interactions with them?"

Jane is growing even more annoyed.

"Why is that important?"

"I'm just curious."

"I see the dry cleaning lady twice a month, Candy Kelly a couple times a week, Sister Agnes when I take Ma to bingo, and cousin Marie every other Easter…"

"Those aren't meaningful interactions, are they? – you have a much deeper bond with Dr. Isles."

"Look, I don't have the time or the patience for a lot of girly-girl chitchat and most of the friends I had in high school are married and on their third kid, I have nothing in common with them anymore."

"But you do have things in common with Dr. Isles."

The detective lunges out of her seat and leans over Dr. Cohen's desk.

"WOULD YOU STOP ALREADY WITH THE MAURA QUESTIONS?"

"Why are you angry, Jane?"

"I'M ANGRY BECAUSE OF THESE BULLSHIT MEETINGS, THEY'RE A COMPLETE WASTE OF MY TIME – I'M ANGRY BECAUSE YOU WON'T LET ME DO MY GOD DAMN JOB AND I'M REALLY ANGRY BECAUSE MAURA ISN'T HERE…

Jane slams her open hand down on the desk and retreats to a corner. She runs her other hand through her thick, raven hair and sighs. Dr. Cohen quietly looks on.

"I have another appointment in a few minutes, Detective Rizzoli, I will see you here tomorrow at our scheduled time – good day."

Jane grabs her coat and huffs. She points her finger at the IA counselor.

"You want to do something to help, go shrink Bobby Marino's head – he's the cop-killing son of a bitch and I'm the hero cop… I'm the good cop here!"

Jane bounds out of the room and slams the door behind her. She nearly runs over Frost in the hall.

"Easy there, partner, we're on the same team… in more ways than one."

"I can't believe that… that WITCH spelled with a capital C is standing between me and my work."

"She's good, isn't she?"

"Too damn good for her own good."

"You keep fighting this and it will only take longer… and judging by that look of wanting to tear off someone's face on your face, I'm guessing she just added another week of sessions to your calendar."

"Faaantastic!"

"You need to learn how to nod your head and smile, just like this, nod your head and smile, like a dance move."

The detective demonstrates for his partner.

"You're way too cool for me, Barry."

"I'm beyond cool, Jane…

He waggles all of his fingers and whistles like a winter wind.

"I'm Frost!"

Jane finally breaks out a smile and the dimples.

"Did you learn that in drama club?"

"I learned a lot there."

"I bet you did."

"Korsak has a meeting with the chief and then we're heading out – meet up with us tomorrow at the Robber, buy us a round or two, and we'll let some case details slip."

"Can't you gimme a little hint?"

"The latest victim was definitely not the target, she was an accidental hit – we believe the intended was the DJ and he is currently out of the country on tour."

"As soon as he gets back, we need to be on him 24/7."

"Agreed – we'll go through it more tomorrow."

"Sounds like a date, partner, see you there."

"Only if you order the chicken soup!"

Jane heads out and is reflective on the drive back to her apartment. It's cold and overcast, autumn is definitely in the air – 'school weather.' Rizzoli decides to pick up her things from her folks' house later. Right now, she wants to be somewhere quiet and safe after her mental sparring match with Dr. Cohen.

The weirdness of being alone back in her own place after all of the disruption over the last few weeks is unnerving. Nothing has changed except for more dust. The dog is with her parents because the neighbor kids and her father love to play with it.

But her place, even with the game on, is all too still.

As she sits on the couch, beerless, Jane grimaces at the water bottle in her hand and contemplates calling Maura. She then mulls over Dr. Cohen's question about female friends and her lack thereof. Another thought hit her square in the jaw: what if she had died that day by her own hand?

Shivers run up her spine and down to her still-recovering gut. All of her arm hairs prickle simultaneously. Her split-second reaction may have saved Frankie but it nearly killed her and all but destroyed Maura.

Maura. The woman who admitted to being in love with her, the woman who was her best friend – her only true friend – the woman who had at last become her lover merely eleven days before the shooting.

What if Detective 'Hero Cop' Rizzoli had died because the brilliant Dr. Isles couldn't save her in time? She might as well have placed the barrel of her gun in Maura's mouth and pulled the trigger.

"Oh, God… no wonder you're on the other side of the country – how in the hell are you not on the other side of the world?"

Jane gulps down her water and resolves to give Maura some space by not calling her.

For now.

On the other side of the country, Dr. Isles basks in the west coast weather and is wondering why Jane hasn't called or texted yet. She is seated in the patio area of the resort's five-star restaurant and slowly picks at her Salade Niçoise.

As she starts to check her phone, Dr. Hereford approaches from her blindside and invites himself to her table.

"Dr. Isles."

Before she can respond, he is already sitting across from her.

"So glad to see you're feeling better."

Maura attempts to conceal her irritation with a polite coolness.

"Hello, Dr. Hereford."

"Dune, please."

"Yes… Dune."

"I, ahem, we missed you at the dinner last night."

"It was unfortunate that I had to forego the festivities but I needed to rest."

"All better?"

"It was only a slight headache… one that is threatening an imminent return."

"That salad looks delicious."

"I am not a fan of the tarragon…"

Before she can say another word, Dune grabs a fork and helps himself.

"Ugh, I see your point."

With her mouth agape, Maura finally manages to find the words.

"Dr. Hereford… I am an only child."

"That's interesting, I have three siblings myself."

"No, I mean that… I as an only child…"

She tugs the edge of her dish close to her.

"… do not like to share!"

Suddenly, she flashes back to her bed a few days before the shooting. Jane is wearing nothing but her Red Sox red socks for her chronically cold feet and a completely naked Maura is coiled around her body. It is extremely hot and humid. Rizzoli swallows down her bourbon on the rocks as Isles indulges in another spoonful of black cherry sorbet.

With a half smirk, Jane takes the ponytail holder out of her own dark locks and gently pulls back Maura's honey hair with it. She then boldly steals her lover's melted dessert and proceeds to pour it all over the two of them. They spend the next several minutes playfully kissing and licking it off each other.

"Well, mmmost of the time, that is."

Maura's memory-fueled heated expression causes Dune to cough. This snaps Isles out of her reverie and back to a less than ideal reality.

"I'm terribly sorry, Dune, is there something you needed from me?"

"I so badly want to show you my sea cucumber…"

Maura nearly spits out her iced green tea. He leans forward with his eyes wide and glazed.

"It would fit perfectly between your diatoms!"

"Dr. Hereford!"

"I mean my hypothesis would fit perfectly with your diatom corollary, for example…"

The man rapidly rambles on with scientific jargon to cover his true intentions. Isles imagines Jane coming up behind Dune, tapping him on the shoulder, and then cold-cocking him with one solid blow. She winks at Maura, playfully takes a bite of her salad, and struts away.

The absurdity of the whole situation causes a nervous giggle to erupt from Maura's mouth. Dune is not amused.

"You find my hypothesis funny? – I dedicated years of my life and millions of dollars on this research!"

"No, no, Dr. Here… Dune, it's not that, you'll have to excuse me, I have been under a great deal of stress lately and…"

The man reaches across the table and takes her hand in his.

"I understand completely and I want to be very candid with you, Maura, I want to spend a day in your head and a night in your bed!"

He kisses her hand and she yanks it back.

"Dr. Hereford, please!"

"Won't you let me?"

"You need to leave."

Thankfully, the waiter intervenes.

"Is there a problem, Madame?"

Dune regains his composure and adjusts his tie. Maura stares at him.

"I'm not sure… is there, Dr. Hereford?"

"No, if you will excuse me, Dr. Isles, I need to book a round of golf, good afternoon."

Dune abruptly walks away with the waiter watching.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, some dessert perhaps?"

"Dessert sounds perfect – you wouldn't happen to have any sorbet?"

Moments later, just as Maura starts to relax and enjoy her fancy frozen fruit, a very striking young woman with blonde hair and ice-blue eyes comes over to her table. Dressed in a taupe Armani Privé skirt and jacket, she studies Isles' purse and sorbet. The woman has a very noticeable accent.

"Forgive me for staring but I am not sure which is more tempting, your sweet treat or your clutch."

Maura can't help but snicker. She smiles at the woman and leans back. The woman takes the chair recently vacated by Dune.

"May I?"

Perplexed by the amount of open tables surrounding her, Isles wonders why she is Little Miss Popular today and nods in the affirmative.

"That is an Estonian accent, yes?"

"Impressive, most people guess Russian."

"The way you break your dipthong gives you away – the Finno-Ugric language family does not include Slavic."

"You are very good with tongue, Dr. Isles."

"Heh, thank you… wait, you know who I am?"

"I attended conference this week."

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

"Please call me Luule."

"Are you a doctor, Luule?"

"Erm, a kinesiologist perhaps – I couldn't help but notice you turned away very handsome man earlier."

"Yes, Dr. Hereford overstayed his welcome."

Under the table, Luule slides off her stiletto and runs the side of her foot along Maura's shin.

"It makes me wonder if you prefer company of very beautiful woman instead?"

"You don't work in healthcare, do you?"

"What I do is very healthful and I take great care."

Isles stifles her laugh and sighs.

"My pheromones must be off the charts today."

Luule retrieves an iPad from her tote and scrolls through the touch screen. She angles it for Maura to read.

"My menu and corresponding rates."

Maura's innate curiosity spurs a cursory glance. She shakes her head and takes out her phone.

"I can't help but be intrigued, flattered, and horrified at the same time – thank you, Luule, I do prefer the company of a very beautiful woman… her name is Jane."

Isles shows the blonde an image of Rizzoli sprawled out on a park bench, barefoot, in faded cut-off jeans, an Azzurre national team jersey, aviator shades and a big toothy grin.

"That… is yours?"

"In a sense, yes."

"She is with you now?"

"No, she is in Boston."

"I can try to be your Jane for afternoon or night."

"No one is Jane except Jane."

"Then, lady, why are you here eating ice?"

"Ahh, it's complicated."

"You know how many times I hear that in my profession?"

"Quite a bit, I am sure… actually, I could use your services for a few hours."

"I take personal checks, where is room?"

"Sorry, I only want to talk… I need to talk…"

Maura feels herself starting to tear up.

"I need to talk to someone who doesn't know me, who doesn't know Jane, and who can be utterly honest and objective…"

"You have no one else?"

"I don't want to see a professional – a medical professional – I can't speak to my mother about this and my friend Shoky is unaccustomed to the subject of female sexual intimacy… something tells me you won't have a problem with this topic."

The bemused blonde agrees and motions to the waiter.

"We will need much wine for this."

"A bottle at least…"

Nearly five hours later, with two empty bottles of chardonnay, a third basket of rosemary flatbread, and sideways looks from the waiter, Maura finally finishes telling the tale of Boston's hot hero detective and the cold rich ME to Luule the Estonian escort.

"And there you have it – that is why I am out here and Jane is back there."

"Unbelievable… is like bad basic cable TV show, no?"

"Yes, it sadly is."

"You two have been through much together."

"We have."

"And you two love each other."

"We do… deeply."

"Then what is problem?"

"Have you… have you not heard a word I said all afternoon?"

"I have and I understand why you need to be here, away from her, for your own emotional recovery."

"Thank you for agreeing with me!"

"But… you asked me to be honest and objective when it comes to Jane as well."

"I did, please continue."

"Maura, you are sex starving her!"

"What?"

"You are sex starv…"

"I heard what you said but I do not comprehend it – our relationship is vastly more complex than just sex."

"No, is not."

"Yes, it is!"

"Sweetie, what do you do for living?"

"I am the chief medical exam…"

"You cut up dead bodies for living."

"I… I do."

"What do I do for living?"

Isles nearly chokes on her own tongue and offers a defeated smirk. Luule smirks back.

"Trust me, it is sex – for both of you."

Maura hangs back in her seat and swallows the last few drops in her glass. Her paid companion continues.

"Jane frustrates you because she is essential part of your life now but won't acknowledge relationship publicly… oh, and she won't eat your pussy."

The waiter goes to refill their water glasses and does a quick pivot on his heel and rushes away after Luule's last comment. Maura turns beet red as Luule tsk-tsks at her empty water glass.

"It is shame men are so queasy over subject matter – I should I have said she won't eat your pussy during period so we could watch him drop pitcher and flee into parking lot."

"How… how much… do I owe you… for the billable hours?"

Luule taps away on her iPad and holds it up for Maura to read. The doctor takes out her checkbook and a pen.

"One last thing about your Jane… she is just as frustrated because she made life-altering discovery because of you and then you run off to San Diego – land of large marine creatures, crazy comic book fans, and sub par sports teams."

"But…"

"She is like child with shiny new toy."

"We have not even broached the subject of toys yet."

"No, you are toy, you gave yourself to her, she loves playing with toy, then you take toy away and hide it from her… big badass cop is already confused and vulnerable enough."

"And the sex starving is making matters worse."

"Yes… and two u's in name."

Luule takes the check from Maura and stands up from the table.

"Seeing how gorgeous your Jane is, you need to be careful she does not find new toy to play with."

"Thank you, Luule, you are an amazing 'kinesiologist'… if you ever want to pursue the real thing, I know a program in Paldiski."

"Good luck to you, Dr. Isles… good luck to both of you!"

The beautiful blonde waves goodbye and exits the patio area. The waiter hurries over, hands the tab to Maura without looking her in the eye.

"Bill it to my account, please."

"Very good, Madame."

With her legs stiff from sitting for so long, Maura takes a long walk around the greens of the golf course. She pauses under a shaded area of oak trees, pulls out her phone, and dials Jane. It goes to voicemail.

"Hello… I guess you're busy with your folks or Frankie – I hope you're busy with your folks or Frankie and no one else – Jane, I'm sorry if I'm sex starving you, goodbye."

Isles' phone rings back fifteen seconds later.

"Maura, what the hell kind of message is that?"

"I believe my message is self explanatory, Jane."

"Humor me and explain it in detail, you like doing that."

"Why didn't you pick up when I first called?"

"God, not this again… believe me, I wanted to pick up but I am trying my best to honor your wishes and give you some space, I don't want to haunt you with phone calls."

"I know, thank you for doing that… I apologize."

"Can we get to the sex starving comment?"

"We will… first, tell me, how was your day?"

"How was my day?"

"I want to hear your voice right now, how was your day?"

"My day was awful without you… and that Dr. Cuuu-ohen was the icing on the cake."

"Huh, she has a renowned reputation and her peer reviews are exemplary."

"She thinks I need more girlfriends."

"WHAT? – SHE DOES NOT KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT, I MIGHT HAVE TO REPORT HER TO THE BOARD."

"Hold up there, babe, chill… she meant actual friend friends."

"I… I knew that."

"Are you okay?"

"I think I've had too much wine."

"Can we get back to the sex starving now?"

"Jane, you have female friends, you have your mother, you have me…"

"And?"

"Um, there's that lady at the dry cleaners who always gives you a discount – I think she has a thing for you because she always overcharges me for my dresses and, ooh, there's your cousin Marie!"

"I don't want to talk about Marie, she's going to be here tomorrow with her brats."

"That's nice – how long will she be staying?"

"Too long, now let's get to the sex."

"Are you back at your apartment?"

"Yep… and I'm starving!"

"Luule was right."

"Luuwho?"

"A guy with a lazy eye, a sea cucumber, and a kinesiologist-slash-callgirl walk into a hotel bar…"

"Is this a joke or a new reality show?"

"It's how I figured out I was sex starving you."

"Uh, whatever, tell me what you're gonna to do about it."

"Here let me show you…"

Maura taps her phone and sends a seductive picture of herself on top of her bed wearing nothing but Jane's black tie.

"I took it last night instead of going to the formal dinner – I was thinking about you the entire time…"

Jane almost drops her phone at the sight of the image.

"FUUUCK MEEE."

"That's rather difficult to do considering the circumstances but I will try my best."

Rizzoli rips off all her clothes in record time.

"I have never been so glad to be back at my own place!"

"Is your door locked?"

"Don't worry about it, I own a gun."

"I'm thinking of your mother."

"PLEASE don't be thinking of my mother right now!"

"You know Angela has a penchant for walking in unannounced."

"She has company coming over tomorrow, she's too busy cleaning the house."

"And this is the first night since… you know… that her injured baby girl is not at home."

"Crap, you're right!"

A nervous Jane peeks at the door, snatches a throw pillow, and places it over her middle.

"She will probably be over with cannelloni soon."

"But… but I wanted to do things with you, Maura."

"What kind of things, Jane?"

"You know… thinnngs."

"Thinnngs, hmmm?"

"Naughty thinnngs."

"What kind of naughty thinnngs?"

"Naughty thinnngs I shouldn't do but wanna!"

Isles cackles heartily out loud. A miffed Rizzoli glares at her phone.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Oh, you poor, poor repressed thing – no wonder you are so tense and angry all the time."

"Hey, not all the time… most of the time."

Maura grows serious. She doesn't notice Billy pulling up in a golf cart behind her.

"Jane, I want you to know that I am going to be there for you very soon and I am going to take care of all your needs…"

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah."

Billy strides over to his favorite guest and hands her a small, sealed envelope. Jane is unaware of what's happening and continues the conversation.

"No more sex starving?"

"No, I promise."

Isles pulls free a piece of hotel stationary and studies the handwritten note from 'Mr. Amblyopia.' It reads:

_**Behind the clubhouse in two hours**_

She gasps and waves off a concerned Billy.

"Maura… are you still there?"

"Uh-huh, annoying insect bite, that's all."

The detective is now breathing heavily into her phone.

"I want to tell you all about my horny – literally – dream from last night."

The doctor crumples the note in her hand as it forms a fist.

"And I want to hear all about it, Jane, every detail… but there is something I need to do, first."


	11. Chapter 11

Part 11 – 911

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: As an extremely well-compensated TV staff writer, I understand the need for timely story updates and apologize for the delay… um… wait… that's not me – I am neither a TV staff writer nor extremely well compensated. So, y'all will have to be patient!**

**Also, real life does not come with 'trigger warnings' nor should it. It's how we learn and how we grow. There is a reason I listed this story under 'M' for mature since the very beginning and it's not only for the language and the lady fuckin'. Now, if that isn't enough of a warning for you, I don't know what is – enjoy; )**

Dr. Maura Isles strides along a lighted stone path that leads to the mission-style clubhouse behind the eighteenth green. With the manila envelope tucked securely under her arm, she checks her watch and realizes she is fifteen minutes early for her blackmail meeting with 'Mr. Amblyopia.'

Usually one for strict punctuality, Maura does not want to leave anything to chance and makes sure she has the time to assess the surrounding area. It is a calm, balmy night with only the crickets chirping away. She leans against a giant flower pot filled with _Strelitzia reginae_ and thinks back to the last time she allowed herself to be bullied by a man.

It was also the first time she met Jane Rizzoli.

Their initial encounter was not on the job but many years prior when she was premed at BCU and Jane was a rookie at the BPD. Maura's then boyfriend had a shiny black Porsche 911 Turbo and cops loved to catch him speeding in it.

Blake Weston was a brawny, blue-eyed asshole of epic proportions but he knew how to score blow. And E. And he came from the right family. All of the Isles approved of this walking turnip. He loved himself first, his car second, and his dog third.

Maura was just along for the ride.

It was a routine traffic stop not far from the campus. The sun was just beginning to set on a humid vernal day. She and Blake were headed out to an early dinner followed by a late night of clubbing. The future Dr. Isles was always socially awkward but money, alcohol, and drugs had a funny way of leveling things.

Her hair was much darker back then, almost as dark as Jane's. And with all the parting, late night study sessions, partying, fast food diet, partying, lack of regimented exercise, and partying, Maura was a little more voluptuous. Her breasts were at their peak, literally.

She carefully chose the right wardrobe to make sure her cleavage was highlighted without being porn-level obscene. Blake was always on her case about her appearance, more so than her own mother. He wanted a Neiman Marcus mannequin in public and a blow-up fuck doll in private.

The patrol car zoomed out of nowhere as they often do and pulled up directly behind them. There was no chance for escape. A few squeals of the siren accompanied the flashing red and blue lights. Maura twirled her hands in the air and swayed in her seat.

"Ooh, it feels like we're at the club already!"

"Shit, do you have it hidden?"

"They won't find a thing."

"Fucking keystone cops, why don't they deal with the homeless bums in our parks?"

"The indigent don't often run two consecutive stop signs in a high-end automobile."

"Bitch, shut your mouth so you can put it to better use later."

"Oh-so eloquent as usual, Blake."

Her boyfriend pulls over to the curb and two uniformed officers emerge from their black and white ride. The lead is an older, bald African-American man who takes his time looking over the Porsche and its occupants. Maura fixes her hair as her boyfriend grips the steering wheel.

"Great, I'm being punked by Michael Fucking Jordan."

"Do you know Michael from your fraternity?"

"I'm saying this cop looks like the basketball player."

"The one with the atrocious track shoes?"

"Be quiet, Maura, and let me do the talking."

The officer leans into the driver's side window.

"Sir, please turn off the ignition and remove your sunglasses."

"Is there a problem?"

"You missed a stop sign back there and we have a report of a stolen vehicle that fits this description."

"I can assure you that this is my car."

"Then you won't have a problem with us doing our jobs."

As Blake engages with the officer, Maura suddenly takes notice of his very statuesque, very female partner approaching her side of the car. Isles' audible gasp is heard by both men as Jane lowers her head to the window.

"Ma'am, would you mind stepping out of the vehicle?"

"Mmm, not at all, officer!"

Maura practically bounces out of her bucket seat and stands before the law in her red and white patterned Pucci dress and matching red patent leather platform shoes. She looks like a classy piece of peppermint candy with a slight hint of slut. The officer is all business.

"Lose the shades, please."

"I'll lose mine if you lose yours."

"This isn't a game, ma'am."

"That's too bad, games can be fun."

Maura complies with the command and drinks in the full vision of the black uniform-clad woman before her. Jane's hair is pulled up neatly under her hat and her hands are placed firmly on slender hips right above her utility belt. Her weapon is most prominent.

"Is that a real gun?"

Isles could not stop the stupid question from tumbling out of her mouth in time. The officer doesn't miss a beat.

"No, ma'am, the department issues us water pistols so we can defend ourselves against sand."

Neither one of them was expecting the volume of Maura's signature laughter to shatter the air. This caused a tiny crack in the officer's armor as a wisp of a smile bent her lips at the corners. Dimples appeared out of hibernation.

"Ooh, pretty!"

Maura unwittingly goes to stroke the striking face before her. Jane captures the hand and firmly pushes it away. Both of them take a step back.

"Please don't touch me, ma'am."

"I'd like to touch you all over."

"Don't."

"I apologize, officer."

Jane snaps back to icy professionalism.

"I need to see your license."

"You know I wasn't driving the car."

"I still need to see it."

Maura finds herself enjoying the challenge of breaking down the officer's barriers and tries again.

"I'll show you whatever you want to see."

She slowly unzips her glittery purse and fetches her license. Isles pretends to hand it over but brings it up to her mouth instead and seductively licks the back of it. She sticks it right above her left bosom and dares the officer to retrieve it.

"If you flash me your badge, I'll flash you something else."

Jane is not intimidated and quickly snatches it from the cleavage. She squints at the shoddy lettering on the card.

"Courtney… Love – really?"

"That is the name listed."

"But is it the truth?"

"I can be Courtney, Britney, whomever you want me to be-ney."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to confiscate this."

"Why?"

"This is a fake… and a piss poor one at that."

"When I slip a hundred dollar bill beneath it, it works just fine – is discerning forged documentation your area of expertise?"

"In high school, I was a cashier at my uncle's market – you don't think I know how to spot a fake ID, ma'am?"

"Please stop calling me that, I won't enter 'ma'am' territory for at least another decade."

"What should I call you then?"

"I'd prefer to be addressed as Mademoiselle."

"Right, and I'd prefer to be addressed as the owner of the Red Sox."

"Dreams can come true… and fantasies are even better."

"It might help if I knew your real name, Miss…"

"Aguilera."

Jane looks down and stifles a guffaw. She clears her throat and sighs.

"Do you want me to bring you in?"

"Absolutely, if by 'in' you mean inside your mouth."

Maura could tell that the officer was growing weary of the flirting and was not reciprocating her increasing boldness. She countered with the truth.

"I am over the legal age to drink, officer, I only keep a fake ID because of my family name – I don't want to sully it with the insalubrious nature of what… or whom I do."

"I see."

"Oh, no – no, no, I don't do that, I'm not a professional lady of the evening."

"I could instantly tell that by your plain outfit and demure actions."

"Excuse me, I simply like to party… and dance – it frees me."

"Frees you from what?"

"Me."

Jane steps closer to Maura again and slowly lowers her aviators. Gorgeous black-brown eyes smolder deeply into the large hazel ones before her.

"Are you high, ma'am?"

"No… aroused, sir."

The officer freezes before her. Isles can tell by the body language and the elevated breathing that the public worker feels the same. Maura shifts her weight and subtly arches her back.

"I think you might want to frisk me."

"Are you volunteering for a pat down?"

"Oh, yes."

The dark, towering, intimidating cop in her get-on-your-knees-spread-your-legs-put-your-hands-behind-your-back-and-open-your-mouth-because-I'm-about-to-fuck-every-possible-orifice-of-yours uniform now resembles a little girl who was just handed a giant stick of pink cotton candy.

"Turn around, palms down on the rear of the vehicle."

Maura's boyfriend and Jane's partner both look on in astonishment.

"What the hell are you doing, Rizzoli?"

"I have reason to believe she is concealing something, sir."

Jane's hands are now covering every inch of her suspect, lingering long enough under the breasts to test the bounds of legality. Maura makes sure she moans low enough for only the not-so-offending officer to hear.

"Rizzoli… that's a strong Italian name."

"Um-hmm, still don't know yours."

"You'll know everything about me soon enough."

Jane's hands slide down the outer sides of Maura's bare shins. They now begin a slow ascent on the inside.

"Mmm, a lefty."

"I know how to use both of my hands."

"I'm sure you do… be careful, officer."

"I'm sorry, Mademoiselle, am I hurting you?"

"Hardly – I'm just saying be careful because left-handers tend to have a shorter life span."

"So do cops in general."

"I've never been with a southpaw before."

"Your loss."

"It's not a line, it's a statement of fact."

"I'm sure you will find a way to remedy that."

"Be my first."

"Are you trying to distract me?"

"Are you just now noticing?"

Jane's hand abruptly stops at Maura's upper inner thigh region. She stumbles upon a slick wetness that has nothing to do with the heat of the day and everything to do with the heat of the moment.

"If you go any higher, officer, I might have to arrest you."

Isles can tell the woman is conflicted about what to do next. Maura bites her bottom lip and leans every curve of hers back against Jane.

"A cavity search might be in order."

The wide-eyed officer nervously scans around. They are not in complete view of the men and there is no one else in the immediate vicinity. She gulps hard and tries to steady her breathing.

"This… is not appropriate ma'am."

Maura turns her head ever so slightly to the woman and murmurs under her breath.

"Fuck me…"

Jane can only respond with a frustrated groan through gritted teeth. Maura tries again.

"Fuck me now, Officer Rizzoli."

"God help me, I want to."

"Take me right here."

"You know we're not invisible."

"Lose your partner, I'll lose my loser, there are tall bushes across the street."

"We are already causing enough of a scene."

"When do you get off… duty?"

"I'm working a double shift tonight."

"Then meet me at Club Royale tomorrow night."

"Off of Batterymarch?

"Yes, midnight – and bring your handcuffs."

The obnoxious blare of the multi-note car horn shocks them both out of their hot and heavy horniness. Jane backs away.

"Hey!"

"I've got my god damn ticket, now I want my god damn girlfriend back so we can go!"

The female officer stomps up to the driver's side next to her partner and points at Blake.

"YOU CAN GO, WHEN I SAY YOU CAN GO."

"OFFICER RIZZOLI, STAND DOWN."

The lead officer brushes his tyro back.

"Sorry, sir."

"Did you check her shoes?"

"What?"

Blake shoots Maura a panicked look in the rear view mirror. She remains rigid next to the tail of the car. The officers continue their conversation without catching the glance.

"Sometimes shoes have false bottoms for concealing drugs – do your homework, rookie."

"But..."

"Stand aside."

Maura barks at the officers.

"No, stop!"

She sidesteps to the rear passenger side of the Porsche.

"As a woman, I do not want some unknown man touching my feet or my $2000 Manolos when I have a female officer right here…"

Maura remains firm and direct.

"She can search my shoes."

The lead officer contemplates the possibility of a harassment charge being lodged against him if he does not honor the request.

"You heard the lady, Rizzoli, get on the ground and check them out, now!"

"Yes, sir."

Jane stiffens and returns to Isles' side. Maura appeals to Jane with a sweet smile.

"I trust you with my soles."

The officer drops to her knees and carefully removes each shoe from her party princess. She inspects the bottoms and instantly discerns a small detachment line. In a last ditch maneuver, Maura opens her legs and angles her body in a direct eye line with Jane.

"Did you find what you are looking for?"

It doesn't take a detective to realize that Maura is not wearing panties. The officer's jaw drops as she spies upward. She is unable to wrest her gaze away.

"Officer Rizzoli, did you spot something?"

"Uhh…"

The sharp squawk of a radio voice alerts the officers to a nearby robbery in progress.

"Move, we gotta go!"

"Yes, sir!"

Maura grabs Jane and spins her around before she darts off.

"Don't forget tomorrow night… please come for me."

She squeezes the tips of the officer's fingers and whispers in her ear.

"Please."

The confused cop nods her head and takes off with her partner. The patrol car vanishes in seconds. A relieved Maura slips her shoes on and scurries back inside the Porsche. Her boyfriend blows his nose with his umpteenth ticket, wads it up, and chucks it out the window. The motor revs and they zoom off down the turnpike.

After several silent miles, they come to a brief stop. Isles takes out her lipstick, pulls down the visor mirror, and starts to reapply. She is unaware of the fact that she forgot to buckle her seatbelt.

"Blake, do you still want to go for sushi?"

Maura does not feel her boyfriend's hand reach behind her until he slams her head hard down against the dashboard. Neurons fire in all directions. Her equilibrium is scrambled. She is momentarily stunned until she feels a slight trickle of her own blood dripping from her eyebrow.

"I think you're the only one in the mood for sushi, babydoll."

She gingerly sits back in the seat trying to focus. The Porsche speeds up again.

"Wh… why… why would you do that?"

"You made a fucking fool out of me."

Isles is too shell shocked to scream or cry. Anger replaces all emotions.

"I kept us from getting arrested, you moron."

"You're not kidding anyone, Maura, you wanted to fuck her."

Isles doesn't respond. She is too busy shaking and using paper napkins from the side door pocket to staunch the bleeding. Subcutaneous sutures might be needed. Blake's entire face is red from rage.

"You want to roll around in that dago dyke's grease?"

Maura answers with a nuclear glare as he bashes his hand against the steering wheel.

"Do you?"

"Pull over, I am getting out of this car!"

"Answer me!"

"I do not answer to a violent ignoramus."

"You answer me or I will toss your god damn ass right out the window like that ticket!"

"Fine – not only do I want to sauté in that woman, I would go to the North End, strip naked in the middle of Hanover Street and let her fuck me six ways to Sunday during the Saint Agrippina Feast – happy now?"

"God almighty, do you hear yourself, you crazy bitch?"

"You wanted the truth."

"Just because she has a uniform on, it doesn't mean anything – that wannabe man and her jigaboo partner are nothing and they never will be… they will never be us!"

"She's more a man than you will ever be, Blake."

The Weston heir backhands Maura hard across the jaw. Her ears are now ringing. Unfortunately, the other cars are not close enough to see what is happening. She contemplates jumping out of the rolling Porsche but realizes the danger is too high. Isles tells herself to stay calm until the first opportunity to flee presents itself.

"You disgust me, Maura."

"The feeling is more than mutual."

"I'd rather fuck a dog than you."

"Is this your way of telling me you'd rather screw Skipper?"

"At least my dog's pedigree is worth more than yours now."

"My family's fortune is worth twenty times more than yours and I'm going to be a doctor soon."

"You were adopted and ooh, a doctor – big fucking deal – it doesn't matter how many degrees you earn or how many bars of gold you have in your vault, you are a simple piece of ass for some unfortunate bastard to marry and breed with, period."

"You are a horrible sub-human being, Blake."

"Spare me the moral outrage, it doesn't match what's in the bottom of your shoes."

Maura bites her tongue and scans around for the next traffic light. Blake rambles on.

"I know you think you're smarter than everyone else but give me a little credit, I know you're hiding behind me just like your punjab twink pal hides behind you – it doesn't matter how many white dudes he sucks off, he will never be white and this guinea cop, doesn't matter how many salami sticks she shoves up your twat, she will never be a man…"

The Porsche turns off on a side street and begins to slow in speed as it approaches a busy intersection.

"White men will always be in power, babydoll, always."

"That won't be the case in another decade or two."

"Better hope your future husband never finds out about your lesbo tendencies because that's the kind of social stain that doesn't scrub out."

With the car coming to a complete stop, Maura grabs the door handle and prepares.

"You, Blake Weston, are the only stain that needs to be scrubbed out!"

With that, she flings open the car door and bolts across to the sidewalk. Blake steps out of the car and is about to run after her but reconsiders when he notices the other drivers watching them. Maura enters the door of a coffee shop when she turns around.

"Don't even think about following me or, so help me, I will call the cops and press charges!"

"Yeah, sure, you do that!"

Blake jumps back into the Porsche and zooms off. A trembling Isles approaches the counter, orders a large chamomile tea, and calls a cab to the hospital. That was the first and last time she ever let a man commit any kind of violence against her.

The memory of that cruel life lesson causes Maura to shiver in the present. What Blake did to her was unforgivable but the bigger pain she felt was being stood up by the dashing rookie officer named Rizzoli the following night.

Maura Isles never begged for anything before in her life but she begged for this woman to come meet her at midnight, to find her at the dance club, and to fuck her raw. But Jane never showed.

The Isles heiress had the motive and the means to find the hot cop but never pursued it. She figured the woman lost interest or had something better to do that night. And she never did tell the officer her real name. Med school happened. Life happened.

Over the years, Maura often wondered about Jane but it never became an issue until she started working as a medical examiner for the commonwealth and her first assigned case was with one Detective Rizzoli.

She was so nervous before their meeting, she asked to be reassigned twice but her superior denied the requests. Maura was several years older, her hair lighter, and her body thinner. Her clothes were more formal and often remained hidden behind a white lab coat or scrubs.

Therefore, it wasn't a total shock when the detective did not recognize her. Or, at least she pretended not to.

As they worked together, Jane never brought up her interaction with 'Courtney Love' and neither did Maura. Their professional relationship soon blossomed into a deep friendship and Isles did not want to mess with that. Also, she secretly hoped that Rizzoli, especially since they became intimate, would make the connection all on her own.

It is now two minutes before her meeting with Mr. Amblyopia. She takes a deep breath and walks around the clubhouse. She checks her phone to see a text from Jane. It reads: _arancini_.

Maura's return text is a single question mark.

Jane instantly responds.

_Ma showed up with arancini, not cannelloni, ha!_

_Yum!_

_How do you know my family better than I do?_

_Because I know you_

_I want to know you more_

_You know me more than most_

There is a momentary delay on Jane's side. She finally texts back.

_Ma says hi_

_Hi Angela – miss your arancini!_

_She = driving me crazy_

_Let her take care of you_

_You take care of me_

_I will_

_I'll take care of myself later with your centerfold spread_

_Miss your tie?_

_Miss you more_

_Do you go to the Saint Agrippina Feast?_

_Why?_

_Just wondering_

_Every year_

_Good_

_I'll take you there next time_

_Please do_

_It's a date_

_Bring your baton_

_?_

_;-)_

_!_

_xoxoxo_

Maura notices the approaching man out of the corner of her eye and shoves the phone in her purse.

"Good evening, Dr. Isles…"

Before the lazy eye guy can complete his sentence, Maura launches her own verbal assault.

"At first, I thought about opening up my heart to you but then I realized in order for you to respond, you needed a heart of your own and, unfortunately, you are asystolic…"

The man looks dumbfounded. She continues on.

"Then, for a very brief moment, I thought about opening up my checkbook to you and asking your price, but if I did that, there would be no end to your future extortions…"

"Maura…"

She mutes him by holding her hand up to his face.

"Next, I thought about opening up my medical resources to you – drugs, doctors, whatever you needed – but I knew you did not go through all of this for simple pain killers or corrective eye surgery…"

She waves the envelope in front of him and rips it open.

"Finally, I realized there was nothing I could offer you that would ever be enough and, let me make this abundantly clear, at no such time did I even consider opening up my thighs to you – I only do that for one individual now… and that brings us to your three photos."

She holds up the first black and white image of Paddy Doyle.

"I have no doubt you understand the ramifications of angering the leader of the Irish mob, you are simply not that foolish."

She now holds up the image of her parents.

"Their money and their connections will make it impossible for you to ever be gainfully employed on any continent, including Antarctica."

Finally, she holds up the image of Jane.

"If this individual, my individual, believes for a nanosecond that I am in any kind of danger from you, for you, because of you, she will be a greater force of annihilation than the previous two photos combined and I am not talking legally with shiny handcuffs and the reading of rights but a sudden, tortuous ripping of the lungs out through your anus kind of annihilation and that will be within the first five seconds!"

The man is motionless and multiple shades of pale. Maura gets right in his face.

"So, I have nothing more to say to you and you have absolutely nothing more to say to me – no more threats, no more photos, no more envelopes…"

She snaps her fingers and Billy comes strolling out from behind the clubhouse with two big, burly men.

"This nice young man and his SDSU linebacker buddies will now be escorting you off the resort grounds – do not contact me ever again… enjoy the rest of your night!"

Maura turns to walk away. She takes three steps when he calls after her.

"Your mother suspected your little sapphic fling with your lady cop friend but she had no idea how deep it truly was… until now."


	12. Chapter 12

Part 12 – Nineteen Minute Mark

Finished with her first hardcore run since the shooting, Jane Rizzoli gulps air as she heads inside The Dirty Robber for lunch. She immediately motions to a waiter for water while staking out the usual corner booth she shares with all of her partners. One last stretch before she plops down on the worn vinyl seat.

"Eck, it's all sticky… can I get a dishcloth over here?"

Recognizing the barked order of his sister, Frankie jumps up from the table across the room and makes his way over to her.

"Will a half-used napkin with a couple of mustard stains do?"

"Hey middle child, it'll do for now, thanks."

Jane proceeds to wipe up what she can with the paper and then wads it into something other than origami. She regards her brother's uniform.

"Heading out on patrol?"

"It's only light duty and it's better than riding a desk."

"At least you're riding something."

"Gordo and I just finished our break, now it's back to a tour around the block."

"Some of my toughest perps came from walking a beat… you be extra careful out there!"

"Okay, Ma."

"Shut it."

Frankie playfully tugs his sister's ponytail. Jane sighs and shakes her head.

"I can't believe you're back in the saddle and I'm not – you were more critical than I was."

"At first."

"What happened to lung trumps gut?"

"I know how to play nice with IA, something you need to work on, Janie."

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it."

"Really?"

"That's my line."

"Frost told me you were fiddling around with a new catchphrase."

"Nah, lost interest… is Barry here? – I'm supposed to meet him and Vince for lunch."

"I haven't seen 'em yet… speaking of fiddling around, have you heard from Maura?"

"She texted me this morning, something her mother did has her all upset, wouldn't say what it was."

"Heh, Mama Drama… I wonder what that's like?"

Both Rizzoli siblings share a quick chortle. Gordo whistles to Frankie from across the room to get a move on.

"One sec, man!"

Before Frankie leaves, he leans into the booth and speaks to his sister in a hushed tone.

"Your uh… special delivery that you ordered IN MY NAME arrived in the mail yesterday."

For a second, Jane has no idea what her brother is talking about until it suddenly dawns on her. She covers her mouth in shock and gasps.

"Did you see?"

"Of course I saw, it's in my name."

"Did you... watch?"

"Did I watch a DVD with the title, 'Mona's Magic Box: How to Go Down in Lady Town'… lemme think – HELL, YEAH."

Jane cringes and slumps in her seat. Frankie shrugs his shoulders.

"Why don't you just stream porn like the rest of us?"

"It's not porn… it's an instructional video."

"Sure… well, we all could use some advice from time to time – who knew there was a hood?"

Jane squints and blinks at him. Gordo is at the door waving at Frankie.

"Gotta go."

"Wait, where did you put it?"

"It's under the passenger seat of your car."

"WHAT IF POP FINDS IT?"

"I wrapped it in your bag of tampons… ain't no way he's looking in there."

The elder Rizzoli is unable to hold eye contact with her sibling. The surreal thought of her brother disguising a DVD about Sapphic sex with a tampon package in order to hide it from their father and then stash it like Tommy's dime bag in her car is enough to cause Jane to groan loudly in humiliation. Frankie winks at her.

"Oh, that reminds me… be sure to skip ahead to the nineteen-minute mark."

Jane trains one eye at Frankie as he fires his parting shot.

"Mona lives up to her name!"

Now alone with her embarrassment, Jane meekly motions to the waiter.

"I'll have warm tea, dry toast… and a bottle of Maker's Mark."

The waiter looks at her perplexed.

"I'm only going to stare at the bottle."

Out of nowhere, 'Candy Kelly' from clerical calls to Jane from the bar and waves excitedly. She is wearing a sweater she knitted herself with a big blue heart bearing the BPD initials.

"Hi, Detective Rizzoli!"

Jane grits her teeth and forces a small wave back. She mutters to herself.

"Pleasedon'tcomeoverhere, pleasedon'tcomeoverhere, pleasedon'tcomeoverhere."

Jane's slight acknowledgement is more than enough for Kelly to come bounding over to the booth.

"May I join you for lunch?"

"Um, Frost and Korsak are supposed to meet…"

"They're not here yet."

Kelly claps down her diet Coke on the table to claim her spot. She dares Jane to turn her away. Rizzoli continues her gritted teeth fake smile and surrenders.

"Have a seat."

Kelly gleefully does. The over-exaggerated face of Dr. Cohen flashes inside Jane's mind.

"How many female friends do you have again?"

Rizzoli snorts as the waiter brings over her tea and toast while Kelly asks for a menu. Jane notices something missing.

"Did you forget my bourbon?"

"I wasn't sure if you were serious, ma'am."

"You can bring me two bottles now."

The waiter hurries off as Kelly looks confused.

"Are you sure that's the best thing for your recovery?"

"I'm not going to drink them… just stare at them… imagine them flying in slow motion… shattering against a large brick wall… it's a therapy technique."

"Great, great… so, how are you, Miss Jane?"

"Diiid we teleport to the Deep South?"

"Goodness no, although I am originally from Hattiesburg – it's just my way of showing deference to those in my company."

"I prefer 'detective' to 'miss'… but feel free to use my first name, everyone else does."

"Jane, yay!"

Kelly clasps her hand around her new pal's wrist and gives it a friendly squeeze. Rizzoli carefully draws her hand back and hides it under the table. Kelly tries not to take offense.

"Ooh, not the touchy-feely type, I see."

"Eh… no, not usually."

As Jane tries to fake her way out of the awkwardness, she can't shake the instant mental image of being all touchy-feely with Maura, pinching and rolling her pink nipples into ripeness. She stifles her sly smile by stuffing her lunch between her teeth.

"Mmm, good toast."

Kelly suddenly turns serious and leans across the table.

"Do you like nuts?"

Jane nearly chokes on her toast.

"Nuts… nuts are nutty."

"Good because I made some cashew clusters with your name all over them… literally, your name is all over them… I made the tiny J's out of dried cranberries."

"Sounds… yummy – did you order yet? – where in the hell are my booze bottles?"

Nearing Linda Blair levels of rotation, Rizzoli rapidly cranes her neck around in a desperate search for the waiter, or Frost, or Korsak, or Rondo, or anyone to come rescue her. Kelly sucks down the remnants of her diet Coke and stares adoringly at Jane's face.

"My word, you sure are a pretty girl in a tomboy way but I bet you must've heard that a thousand times."

"Not exactly."

Jane remembers the last crime scene she worked with Maura. The forensic team is taking pictures of the bloody bodies as the detectives inspect the bullet holes in the wall. Maura nonchalantly pulls Jane aside and whispers in her ear.

"Your sexy swarthy androgyny permeates the air like cheap cologne in a hot elevator... and it's making me wet."

Maura flashes her impish dimpled grin and then steps away.

"Just thought I should point that out to you, detective."

Jane is stunned for a second and then strides behind her. She calls back to the others.

"I, uh, need to follow up on something with Dr. Isles, we'll be right back."

As they leave the area, Jane grabs Maura's hand and whispers her response.

"Let's go find that elevator!"

She abruptly remembers where she is as Kelly shoves her cell phone in her face.

"This is my doggie, Mr. Jiggles, I dressed him up in a little lion costume for his birthday – don't you love the irony?"

"So very… clever."

"Isn't he precious? – I know you have a doggie, too, Sergeant Korsak told me so…"

Jane makes a mental note to strangle Vince when he finally arrives. Kelly flips through more pictures of her dog.

"We should have a play date for them in the park."

Jane rubs her hands together and summons all of her strength to fake smile again.

"My dog is usually at my folks' place."

"Oh, I would love to meet your parents!"

Rizzoli drains the rest of her tea in one swallow.

"They're expecting company… for the next month."

"This is so much fun having lunch with you, Jane – you're usually off with Dr. Isles – she sure does like spending her free time with you…"

Jane flashes several weeks back to her bathroom sink. A drenched Maura is bent over holding on to its sides, white-knuckled, spread-eagle, as Jane's left limb does its best impression of a pile driver.

"FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, JANE, FUCK ME HARDER, I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF YOU."

Rizzoli bites her bottom lip as Kelly quizzically looks back at her.

"Why does she like spending so much time with you?"

Jane folds her arms and clears her throat.

"Haven't a clue."

"She is so distant from everyone else at the station."

"Maura is very smart and very committed to her work."

"I suppose after you get to know her she opens right on up."

Jane chokes on her toast in mid swallow. Kelly pushes the water glass over to her.

"Did it go down the wrong pipe?"

"Something like that."

Kelly giggles a few seconds too long and twirls a Blue Dye No. 5 extension of her hair. The waiter finally comes over and takes her lunch order.

"I was thinking we could share an appetizer… would you like to share, Jane?"

Another flashback; the detective plants a seductive kiss on each successive vertebra as she trails down the doctor's lumbar spine. Maura moans her appreciation as Jane counts off.

"Mine… mine… mine… this one's mine, too… mine… so mine… mine again…"

Jane takes a last bite of her toast.

"Nah, not in a sharing kinda mood – I'm good, thanks."

The crestfallen clerical worker orders the chicken strips and prattles on about this, that, and the other. Jane barely listens as she keeps an eye on the front door for Frost and Korsak. Her attention swings back to Kelly when the topic of Maura is brought up again.

"When will Dr. Isles be back from her trip?"

"Not soon enough… I, um, hear her replacement is a jerk."

"I was never so frightened in my entire life as when that shooting went down, all that blood… and the bodies – I could never do what you do, Jane, or what Dr. Isles does."

"Someone has to do it, why not us?"

Kelly reaches over and tries to take Jane's hand again. Thankfully, the lunch order arrives to break up the play.

"You are so brave, DJ!"

Rizzoli shakes her head in confusion. Kelly explains.

"DJ as in Detective Jane."

"No… don't."

"Well, you certainly aren't a 'Plain Jane' so I thought I'd give you a nickname to match your butch bravado."

"Please… don't."

"It's better than the 'Queen of the Dead' nickname Dr. Isles has going for her."

Jane openly bristles to hear the name of her lover joked about over a casual meal. Kelly doesn't notice and scoops up the last of her honey barbecue sauce with a chicken finger.

"It's so gruesome to be hanging out in the morgue all day long and hacking up human flesh like slaughterhouse specials."

"Lunch sure has been… fun – I need to find out where Frost and Korsak are."

Jane is anxious to leave but Kelly continues on about Maura.

"Dr. Isles must be a vampire or something."

Before Rizzoli can properly defend the chief medical examiner of the commonwealth to a commonplace clerical worker, she remembers reclining in the backseat of her car after work, pants pulled down around her calves, and Maura's mouth firmly in place on her mound.

The force and ferocity of Isles' actions draws deep, ragged breaths from her subject as Jane jerks and grips the door handle with one hand and the back of the seat with the other. Maura pauses for a moment and locks eyes with the detective.

"All I want to do is eat you."

Jane is barely able to squeak out an affirmative before the doctor resumes her oral carpet bombing.

"Mmm."

Kelly interrupts the detective's fluid thoughts.

"Come again, Jane?"

"Huh?"

"I said Dr. Isles must be a vampire and all you said was 'mmm'…"

"Uh, 'mmm' as in Mmmaura is mmmore like a zombie – yeah, definitely zombie, she has a thing for head... I mean brains, not eating brains but brains in general… why I am talking out loud again?"

Kelly is thoroughly confused as Jane gets a text on her phone.

"OH, THANK GOD – Frost will be here in five… I was getting worried."

"Well, if you hear from Dr. Isles, please tell her 'hello' for me."

"Will do."

"I often wonder how the other half – make that 1% – lives."

"It's not really that much different."

The lie slid easily from Rizzoli's lips. She flashes back to lying naked in Isles' bed guzzling a $1000.00 bottle of champagne as Maura scoops caviar out of her lover's bellybutton with the tip of her tongue.

"So, what do you want to do today, Jane?"

"We're already doing it."

"Maybe later we could play tennis with the senator or go out on the sultan's sailboat."

"I don't care as long as it's not another hot air balloon ride with that hot airhead actress."

"She was rather vacuous, wasn't she?"

"Sure, let's go with that."

The two chuckle and eye flirt. Before Jane can finish her reminiscence, Kelly barges in one last time.

"Oh, I think Dr. Isles' life is plenty different from ours – there's no need to be wearing boots that cost a month's worth of my pay to look at livers under microscopes."

Jane's temper is beginning to flare.

"She does a lot more than look at livers under microscopes – I wouldn't be able to solve most of my cases without her expertise."

"Maybe, but she's taking a job away from someone who truly needs it."

"Funny, the last time I checked the St. Francis House, I didn't find any homeless medical examiners camped out there."

"I'm just saying with her money, she doesn't need to work."

"First of all, it's her family's money, not hers…"

Jane's sharp tone and increasing volume has put Kelly on notice that she has crossed a line both were previously unaware of.

"Number two, Maura doesn't need to work, she wants to work – I know a lot of rich slackers who sit on their overly-tanned asses counting their coin instead of pitching in for the greater good."

"I'm sure that's true but she's had such an easy life is all I'm saying."

"How the hell do you know? – are you two lunch buddies? – has she talked to you about her life at length?"

"Well, from what I've heard at the office…"

Jane immediately cuts Kelly off.

"The lunchroom gossipmongers have no idea about the shit she's been through – Maura doesn't wear it on her sleeve and make it into a reality show like everyone else in this country!"

"There's no need for you to get so defensive, Jane."

"That's where you're absolutely wrong, Kelly – Dr. Maura Isles is the most kind, caring, generous, strong, intelligent, gorgeous, honest person I know…"

Kelly nervously motions to the waiter for the check. Jane is now standing beside the booth in full glower.

"And she doesn't need to dress a dog in a lion costume to be clever – she owns a friggin' tortoise – and Maura can make me come just by using her toes!"

The last comment catches both of them by surprise. Thankfully, Frost and Korsak enter the bar. Jane throws down a $20.00 bill and hurries over to them.

"Let's find another booth… now."

Jane drags a dumbstruck Frost over to the other end of the bar as Korsak innocently waves to the upset young woman.

"Love your homemade ribbon candy, Kelly!"

The clerical worker deliberately ignores Korsak and vanishes out the door. Frost sits across from Jane and raises an eyebrow.

"What was that about?"

"Making friends and influencing people."

An oblivious Vince takes a seat next to Frost and lets out a tired sigh. Jane's phone dings off with a text. Disappointment etches her face when she realizes it's from Frankie reminding her about supper at the house. She tosses the phone on the table and gets up.

"I need to run to the restroom real quick – this tea is turning into pee faster than coffee ever did."

"Thanks for the appetizing over share, Rizzoli."

"Time for you two to return the favor with the latest case info… back in a flash."

She calls out to them before disappearing around the corner.

"Order whatever you want, lunch is on me!"

Both men are all smiles until she is gone from view.

"So… how much do we tell her, Vince?"

"We tell her enough to keep her in the loop but not enough for her to go dicking around on her own."

"That's vague."

"Exactly… IA hasn't cleared her yet and we don't need anymore problems."

"Do we mention the DJ returns from his tour next week?"

"Let's just say he's expected back in Boston soon."

"And leads?"

"We have as many as we started with, no harm in telling her that."

"She's going to wonder what the hell we've been doing."

"It's fair to say we've all been a little preoccupied lately."

Frost plays with a packet of sweetener. Vince coughs into his hand and unsuccessfully tries to flag down a waiter.

"What does it take to get a drink around here?"

"Are you going to have the French Dip or the Turkey Club?"

"It's on Jane so why not both?"

Both men share a chuckle as Korsak notices his old phone on the table and picks it up.

"You think that's funny, wait until you see this video of a monkey juggling gourds."

"Hey, didn't you lend that phone to Jane?"

"She won't mind, I just want to show you…WHOA."

A bug-eyed Korsak drops the phone on the table and turns ashen. A curious Frost picks it up and peeks. He is nearly blinded by Maura's erotic nude image.

"That ain't no monkey but HOT DAMN those are some gourds!"

"Is… is that… who I think it is?"

"Dr. Isles in the flesh."

"I need some water."

"Heh, I wondered what happened to Jane's black tie."

A refreshed Rizzoli returns to the table and smiles.

"Whatcha guys talking about?"

Vince immediately stands and does not look her in the eye.

"I… I have to head back to HQ."

"What about lunch?"

"The service in this place is too slow, I'll grab something from the cafeteria."

"What about the case?"

"The DJ is due back in town next week, bye!"

Korsak hustles out the door as Frost rubs his head and sighs. Jane is baffled.

"What's wrong with him?"

With a mock-shocked expression, Frost picks up the phone and holds it in front of Rizzoli. She snatches it out of his hand and hides it away.

"Nooo."

"Oooh yeah."

"It's my phone."

"It was his phone, first."

"Did he see?"

"He looked away before his eyeballs could completely melt."

"Aw, man."

"It only confirms what we suspected all along."

"Considering I just outed myself to Candy Kelly, I'm sure the whole station will be atwitter."

Frost checks his phone and offers a consoling pat on the arm.

"Tweet went out five minutes ago."

"That was wicked fast."

"Maura is an amazing woman, Jane… and there's been an office pool for months."

"Frankie wasn't lying."

"Look, I know this is a lot to handle right now and you're both still processing things but it will work out."

"You sound very sure of yourself."

"Am I a good detective?"

"One of the best, Barry."

"That's right and I have had a front row seat to the Rizzoli and Isles show for well over a year now – the last time I saw that kind of heated banter was with my grandparents and they were in love with each other for over four decades."

"Aren't they dead?"

"That's beside the point – you have a hot, brilliant, mo' money than God, did I mention hot, doctor who is crazy in love with your skinny white girl ass… and she bakes you muffins."

Jane agrees with a knowing half grin. Frost playfully wags a finger.

"Girlfriend, this is not something to be ashamed of… this is a shout-it-from-the-top-of-the-Hancock-with-a-megaphone something to be proud of!"

"If you say, 'can I get an Amen,' I will smack you."

"And I will smack you senseless if you mess this up with Maura."

"I don't know what to do, Barry, I have never felt so frustrated."

"Seems to me 'frustrated' is easily fixed with that photo."

"Frustrated in that I can't figure out what to do next."

"Maybe it's time to stop staring at a naughty picture of your tie's new neck and get yourself on a flight to San Diego."

"Believe me, I want to but she's not ready and I don't want to push it."

"Since when? – the Jane Rizzoli I know always pushes it to the limit and then some."

"I can't… not this time."

"Why?"

"I can't take care of my job because I can't do my job, I can't take care of myself because my mother is still taking care of me, and I can't take care of Maura when she needs it the most."

"Maybe she doesn't need to be taken care of… maybe she just needs you."

A long moment of silence is ended by the waiter taking Frost's order.

"Let's change the topic, tell me about the case."

"Korsak blurted out the best info we've got with the DJ heading back to town."

"Did you talk to the 'drugs n' thugs' unit to see if there are any hits?"

"Negative, nothing in common – narcotics or gangs – with any of our victims."

"Shit."

Jane looks at the time and sighs.

"My relatives are coming over and I promised my family I'd be there."

"Go ahead, I got this."

"Are you sure? – I still owe you a lunch."

"You owe Korsak a lunch, too."

"Thanks, we'll do this again soon."

"And please get IA to sign off on you already!"

Rizzoli is in mid dash for the door when she freezes and turns back to the table. Without looking, Frost holds up her phone.

"You know, you might wanna not leave this around so much."

"Sorry."

"New phones arrive next week, until then, try to control yourself."

Jane winks at Frost, exits the bar, and begins the long walk back to her car. It's Boston and it's fucking cold. Her muscles are aching from the earlier run and her stomach is letting her know that tea and toast won't cut it anymore. She is actually looking forward to the food part of her family gathering.

Rizzoli slowly climbs inside her car and checks under the seat. She finds the package that Frankie left for her and rolls her eyes. The irritating ringtone of Korsak's old phone causes her to jump.

"Christ almighty, I'll be there!"

Instead of her mother yelling at her about being late, it is Maura with meringue music blaring in the background.

"Jane, can you hear me?"

"Hey Maura… what is that noise?"

"It's samba time with Shoky."

"O… kay."

"Pure harmless fun."

"You can explain to me what a samba – and a Shoky – is later."

"Your mother texted me to remind you about your family gathering."

"Of course she did."

"And to please be nice to your cousin Marie."

"Any other orders from Ma?"

"No, but that could change at any moment."

"How goes things with your mother?"

"It's being handled… I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Drop by my house later and send me my medical encyclopedia, it's hunter green with gold bands and should be on the middle bookshelf."

"No problem but can't you just buy a new one?"

"This has all of my handwritten notes in it from med school... and it provides you with the perfect excuse to leave early."

"I love you!"

The two share a sweet round of warm laughter. The detective's knack for asking questions kicks in.

"Are you worried about starting your temporary – and I emphasize the word temporary – doc job on Monday?"

"I will admit to a few butterflies but it will be a nice change of pace."

"Listen, you'll do fine."

"Jane… how are you doing?"

"I'll be better when my cousin's brats get locked in the basement."

"I'm serious – one of your own turned on you."

"He turned on all of us."

"And you haven't fired a gun since…"

"Since I plugged myself."

Maura's hitch in her breath silences them both for a moment.

"Don't worry about me, Maura."

"I will worry about you – I love you – and I have been so selfish thinking only of myself all this time."

"You are the least selfish person I know and I want you to do whatever you gotta do so you can come home to me."

"I will."

"You have no idea how hard it is not to jump on the next plane to San Diego."

"As long as you aren't jumping on anything or anyone else."

Rizzoli picks up on Isles' insecurity and smirks.

"Well now, who else would I be jumping on?"

"I don't know… just don't."

"Maybe I shouldn't mention my lunch with Candy Kelly today."

Maura gasps.

"You had lunch with the ribbon candy maestro?"

"Dr. Cohen told me to branch out."

"You are aware of Kelly's unabated crush on you."

"It's not mutual, trust me – all I wanted to do was wash that colored crap out of her hair."

"You wanted to wash her hair… naked… in a shower?"

"Jesus, no, not in that way!"

"I apologize for my jealousy."

"Don't, it's cute, and if it makes you feel any better, lunch with her was agony – I thought about you the whole time… and I kinda let it slip that you know how to do things to me with your toes."

"I do, don't I?"

"Yeah, you do."

"Telling Kelly about us is progress."

"I really, really miss your toes and tits and everything else."

"Mmm, I might have to send you another picture later."

"Oh… um… that reminds me… Korask and Frost sorta saw the last one you sent."

"What?"

"Ma's gonna wonder where I am, BYE."


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13 – 5263

With an exhilarating yet exhausting Saturday of samba dancing behind them, Maura drives Ashok home in her lush and on loan Maserati. With the car top down and their hair tousled by the breeze, the one-time beard and her boy bestie continue their cheeky confabulation as if college were yesterday. They compete with a wailing diva and the accompanying drum 'n bass mix pumping from the premium sound system.

"I still love this song, Shoky, I can't believe how old it is!"

"I can't believe how old we are!"

"That was fun today, thank you."

"Anytime, my dear, anytime."

"How are plans for Khema's birthday coming along?"

"Lots of cupcakes and lots of pink… that's all I have so far."

"Maybe I could help."

"You could start by dropping me off at the house."

"Ooh, did I miss the exit?"

"Five miles ago."

"So sorry!"

"No worries, we were having such a blast from the past, I did not want to interrupt… and it was nice to see you smiling."

"My mind was elsewhere."

"Let me guess…"

Maura's sheepish grin betrays her. She cuts across to the off ramp. They turn around and start to backtrack.

"Yes, Jane always preoccupies my thoughts, of course – but I was also thinking about my mother."

"Well, that can't be pleasant."

"Actually, it was good… I stood up to her today and won."

"Do tell!"

"She was having me followed by a man with amblyopia."

"Wait… what?"

"And he tried to blackmail me."

"How many drinks did you have at the club?"

"I am serious – and she did it because she was concerned about me – she was even willing to cancel her gallery opening in Berlin to fly out here and discuss it."

"Constance Isles cancel a gallery opening?"

"I know, I was more shocked than you."

"She really does love you, Maura."

"I realize that… now."

"You're her daughter and having you followed is understandable on a certain level – I might do the same if Khema was nearly killed in her workplace and refused to deal with the mental repercussions of it."

"Please, not another lecture."

"Does she know about you and La Bella Rizzoli?"

"She does now but she had her suspicions after the shooting."

"I take it this Mr. Amblyopia only confirmed them for her."

"Apparently he was naive enough to believe that one of the grand dames of the art world would somehow be traumatized to discover her daughter was romantically involved with another woman."

"My dear, did you laugh in his face directly or were you polite enough to chortle to the side?"

"I will admit I was stunned for a second… and then hearty snickering ensued."

"Constance didn't talk about your relationship with Jane when you two were in London?"

"She tried but I pushed her away out of habit."

"A mother always knows, you know."

"Your mother didn't."

"She didn't want to know."

"Does she still consider your husband a roommate?"

"That's a topic for another day, let's finish the current one about the blackmailing creep."

"Apparently, he went rouge and saw an opportunity to play both me and my mother – he took her money for the tailing and thought he could clear his debt to the Irish mob by threatening me with photos of those in my life who… well, who make me a target."

"How ghastly!"

"He thought I would use my influence on his behalf with the BPD and my DNA daddy."

"Maybe his eye condition is a symptom because the man obviously has some sort of cerebral impairment."

"Maybe I'm the one with the impairment because I called his bluff and sent him packing with only harsh words, a bellboy, and his frat buddies... all without Jane's help."

"But now he has to deal with the wrath of your mother."

"Heh… suddenly I pity the man."

"My dear, you need to write a book."

"I need to come up with a better title than, "The Incredible Shagging Adventures of Morbid Maura and Hero Cop of Beantown."

Shoky shakes his head and scoffs.

"Will it have pop-up pages?"

"With pictures… courtesy of the Lazy Eye Guy!"

"I would so not read that!"

"I know you wouldn't."

The two share a long chuckle. In the distance is a large, glass medical complex with a similar but smaller clinic across the street. Dr. Isles points it out to Dr. Ramachandran.

"That's where I will be working this Monday."

"Brava, but be honest with me… will writing scripts for antibiotics and suturing up finger lacerations be enough for you?"

"It will be enough of a diversion for me."

"You do realize that your patients will talk back to you this time."

"I welcome it for a change."

"Brush up on your Spanish and Tagalog."

"I did last night."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Your native tongue is much more mellifluous."

"This is true."

"But the only tongue I cannot stop thinking about belongs to Jane."

"Oh my, here we go again."

"She does tend to dominate the conversation."

"Among other things as you have told me in excruciating detail."

"You're almost home."

"Thankfully so."

"At least Jane finally admitted our relationship to some of our colleagues… that's a positive step."

"And it means you're not a fling, good thing!"

"I was frightened we were at first – I never had a best friend before…"

"Pardon me?"

"A female best friend – and I never had sex with my female best friend before."

"Aww, you've finally graduated to making love."

"In some ways, yes, that sounds so cliché but it's true… although it was mostly pure primal fornication at first, we have come so far from that."

"Because of the shooting?"

"That helped to coalesce things but there is no denying our love… and the sex is still molten lava hot."

"And that's why you're out here in San Diego…"

"I needed a bit of a breather to sort out all of these emotions."

"Indeed, however, you both have plenty of thickets to clear."

Maura ponders his words for a moment and attempts to lighten the mood.

"Speaking of my cop's coppice in the pubic region, I would love to shave her myself since she's hesitant to wax…"

"THIRD HOUSE ON THE LEFT, THIRD HOUSE ON THE LEFT."

Maura giggles as she pulls into the meticulous slate driveway and deposits her play pal. Ashok pecks her on the cheek and scampers inside to his family. She backs out and zooms off down the road. The rest of her hours are filled with a few errands before she returns to her rented villa at the resort.

Thoroughly spent, she nibbles a plate of leftover antipasti from the refrigerator and generously pours herself a double shot of bourbon from the gleaming crystal decanter. On the table is a matching crystal vase full of colorful fresh cut flowers with a note. It's from Billy:

"_That was so unbelievably badass last night – you are one badass lady, Doc! Hope that blackmailing a-hole is long gone. The bros and I want to thank you for your awesome contribution to our college tuition and anytime you need muscle again, please give us a call because, dude, that was so effing rad! – B"_

Isles grins as she tucks the note away in her purse. She has just enough energy left for a long soak in the tub before turning in for the evening. With the warm water enveloping her body, Maura lets her mind wander back to Jane. The wetness and the large stone shower next the porcelain tiled tub transports her to another not-so-fancy shower in the BPD locker room several weeks ago.

It was a harrowing day for everyone on the force and, looking back on it, a prelude of things to come with Bobby Marino. A deranged gunman in Telegraph Hill murdered his wife and children, shot and killed a man he carjacked, gunned down another at a strip mall, and then barricaded himself inside a hardware store.

Every officer on duty in the vicinity was there and so were a number of detectives, including Rizzoli, Korsak, and Frost. They were all in their bulletproof vests and had their weapons at the ready. The doctor and her team of forensic lab techs paused what they were doing and watched the scene unfold on the local news.

Maura knew Jane could take care of herself since she had been by her side in numerous dangerous situations before. But it felt different this time. Their relationship was now sexualized and Isles' deeply buried feelings were dredged to the surface. Worry for her friend and fear for her lover scorched those feelings to the core.

Waking up earlier that morning on the cold wooden floor of the detective's apartment with the comforter coving her and the note "sorry" scrawled atop the newspaper, the doctor was unable to rid her paramour from her thoughts. For the first time, Jane had allowed Maura to bring her to orgasm throughout the night but then fled from her during the day as she did the previous two. It was clear they needed more time together to process their union.

But what if something went wrong before they got that chance? What if the Telegraph Hill gunman had one bullet left for Jane? Maura could barely see the television because tears clouded her eyes. She heard the crackle of gunfire and nearly lost it. The gunman ran out of the building and aimed his weapon at an officer.

Bang.

He was dead before he got his shot off; suicide by multiple cops. It was done. But it was not yet over. Maura choked back her emotions and shut the live feed. With everyone hurrying around her, she prepared for the bodies soon to be brought to her table. And Jane was safely on her way back as well.

A few hours later, Rizzoli and the others returned to headquarters. Isles ducked out of the autopsy room and ran down the hall to the separate locker room for the department's female officers. The detective was alone inside since there were only a handful of other women who used it.

Maura did the calculations. One was out on maternity leave, another on vacation, and the only two left were not due until the late shift. She surveyed the surroundings until it was clear and then casually made a beeline inside the room. She quietly locked the door behind her.

Jane didn't notice. She was too busy hanging up her jacket, storing her firearm, and undoing her vest. After taking a seat on the tiny wooden bench, she pulled out a silver flask from her gym bag and took several long swigs. The sunglasses came off and the dark circles under her eyes conveyed her level of exhaustion. Maura moved in closer.

"Jane."

"Oh, hey."

Rizzoli sprang back up and quickly put the flask away.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine… I wish I could say the same for the victims."

Jane slammed the locker door and angrily chucked one of her boots across the room.

"Fuckah!"

Maura knew Jane was both physically and emotionally depleted when her accent came out in full. She stood next to Jane as she removed her other boot and continued to vent.

"If you want to end your own life, great, do it, arrivederci – but don't take along innocents with you – God damn sonofabitch!"

Rizzoli resumed removing her vest and Isles assisted her with it. The doctor offered a soft shoulder squeeze which rapidly turned into a rub. The detective leaned into it and did not decline. Unable to hold back any longer, Maura pulled Jane's jaw next to her own and kissed her uncontrollably.

"Whoa… wait… we can't."

The smaller woman's heart plunged down to her heels. The taller woman quickly eyed the door and sighed. She then clarified her statement.

"We can't do this… here."

"Don't worry, the door is locked – Lang and Hernandez aren't due until later."

Jane checked her watch and ran through the duty roster in her mind. She realized Maura was right but still hesitated.

"We're at work."

"I am aware of that."

"It's not right."

"You're right but it's also right now and I need you right now."

"I'm… I'm sorry about the way I left you this morning."

"Don't be."

The doctor did not wait for more conversation and kissed the detective again. She practically swallowed her tongue. Before Jane could respond in any form, Maura stepped back and took a deep breath.

"I was truly scared for you out there and I wanted to come in here and make sure you were okay but if you do not want to do this – here or anywhere – I will understand and respect your wishes… it is your call, Jane, and I will do – or not do – anything you want."

Isles attempted to walk away but Rizzoli blocked her with her body.

"Anything… huh?"

Maura slowly traced the tip of her tongue down the side of Jane's salty cheek to her chin dimple and smirked.

"Hmm… anything."

Clang.

The doctor was forcefully pushed up against the side of the locker by the detective as they resumed kissing. Maura yanked off Jane's breakaway chain bearing her badge and ran though the buttons on her white shirt. She zeroed in on the belt and zipper while her own black scrubs swiftly fell to the floor. Both were fully undressed in a few seconds.

Rizzoli flipped Isles around and mounted her firm upper left hip. Jane proceeded to grind out all of her frustrations as she pinned the smaller woman's wrists on the locker with her hands. The grunting and sweating intensified and soon Maura felt a warm sheen spread across her thigh. Jane finished quickly but Maura still needed more.

"I want your fingers inside of me now!"

"Let's take a shower."

Their bodies unwilling to separate, Rizzoli held Isles' breasts prisoner as they swayed over the cracked concrete stall. The doctor fumbled with the hot and cold faucets while the detective's drilling digits found their favorite hole. Maura unwittingly made noise and the locker room echoed her ecstasy.

"Shhhhh."

Jane carefully covered her lover's mouth with her right hand while the left one pushed on. Moments later, with toes curled and lips quivering, Maura gave in to her eruption as they both sank to the bottom of the stall under the weight of their own happy lassitude.

They sat in a coiled embrace and kissed quietly while the warm streams of water washed over them. The women's locker room was dank and decrepit but, at that exact moment, it was their private nirvana. A loud knock on the door interrupted the steamy bliss.

"Rizzoli, we have a debriefing with the chief in ten!"

"I'll be ready in a minute, Korsak!"

Maura nipped Jane's neck and nuzzled her ear.

"I believe you have already had your debriefing."

The detective replied with a low, gravelly growl and playfully spanked the cheek still cupped in her hand. A flurry of towels and clothes soon followed and both were ready to get back to work. Jane didn't bother to blow dry her dark mane and pulled it back into a quick ponytail.

"Um, it might look weird if we both went out there with wet hair."

"I'll stay behind a few minutes and dry mine."

"Thanks."

As Jane opened the door to leave, she heard the coroner vans unloading their human cargo around the corridor.

"Looks like it's going to be a long night for both of us."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I'll see you tomorrow night then, Maura?"

"10:00 at your place, Jane."

They both smiled at each other. Before the door completely closed, the detective popped her head back inside.

"Make it 8:00."

The doctor winked, opened her towel, and flashed her rack.

"Make it 6:00."

Laughing out loud at the memory, Maura reluctantly rejoined the present – a tub full of cold soapy water, raisin skin, and a massive leg cramp from a prolonged position against the jet massager.

She manages to climb out of the bath, wrap herself in a shadow-shade silk kimono robe and collapse onto the bed. The doctor considers calling the detective but figures the Rizzoli family reunion feast is in full swing and does not want to interrupt. She falls asleep before another thought is formed.

On the other side of the country, Jane is totally hating her life. She is not ungrateful for being alive but the elongated visit/dinner with her family is fraying her last nerve and not in the fun kind of way.

Her father "volunteered" to barbecue the tri-tip roast outside in the frigid cold just to get away from the house – a maneuver Frank's only daughter was profoundly envious of. Angela was enjoying the time with her sister, Celeste. And, after all of the stress since the shooting, it was hard for Jane to begrudge her mother this simple pleasure.

Then Celeste's daughter, Marie, uttered her first sentence.

"Hey, Janie, are you ever gonna get a man?"

The detective gnashes her teeth in order to keep her real words from spewing out. She grates the pepper on her salad in long, strong twists and glowers across the table at Marie.

"I work with hundreds of them everyday."

"Yeah but when are you going to bring one home?"

"I've brought a few home… of course, not as many as you."

The casual dig does not dissuade her cousin.

"But at least I married the last one."

Jane glances at Marie's eldest son making faces in his mashed potatoes with the help of Frankie.

"You kinda had to."

Angela ends the escalating exchange with her usual method.

"Who wants more garlic bread?"

Jane always liked to pick at scabs, even as a kid. After shoving the slice of non-dry, super tasty toast between her teeth, she went in for the tormented kill.

"Where is Al, by the way?"

Marie's face fell. Her youngest son, after feeding scraps to Jo Friday under the table, kindly answered for her.

"Daddy is mad at Mommy again."

"Oh really, I wonder why?"

"Stop asking questions that are none of your business, Janie!"

"Sorry, I'm a detective – it's my nature to ask questions."

Angela yells to Frank to go make sure the barbecue is turned off. At first he protests but then comprehends the rationale behind his wife's command. With the current conversation conveniently quelled by the physical interruption, a new one forms between Angela and Celeste. It heads in a more subdued direction about the weekend weather.

Jane and Marie continue to eye each other as an oblivious Frankie spells out swear words with his beans to the delight of Marie's boys. Most people mistook Jane and Marie for sisters instead of cousins due to Marie being Jane's reflection – if she were seven inches shorter and 50 pounds heavier. Their trip-wire tempers and the innate ability to mouth off without thinking first were identical.

Being her only female cousin around the same age, Marie was actually close to Jane when they were young girls. They shared a love for ponies, roller coasters, and for all things balls. Of course, this took on an entirely different meaning for Marie as a teenager. But Jane still counted her as a comrade. Most of the time.

"So, are you still hanging out with that uppity rich friend of yours?"

"You mean Dr. Isles, the woman who saved my brother's life and mine?"

"Yeah, her… is she off emptying out the stores on Newbury Street?"

"She's away in California at the moment."

"Ah, partying with her highfalutin chums instead of you, eh Janie?"

Frankie steps in to deflect the barrage away from his sister, just like he did when they played street hockey in their younger years with the O'Leary crew.

"Maura is busy with some medical thingee out there and we're all getting caught up on stuff around the station… ain't that right, Sis?"

Jane simultaneously shoots a withering stare at her cousin while taking a giant bite of the barbecued beef.

"Sure."

Marie returns the look and squints her face into a constipated grin.

"Gee, that's too bad, maybe when Dr. Moneybags returns she can teach you how to chew with your mouth closed."

Jane clutches her knife and fork while Angela answers for her.

"Dr. Isles has been teaching all of us many new things."

Frankie can't help himself.

"Especially Janie here, she has to take video lessons to keep up."

Jane stomps on Frankie's foot under the table. He yelps while Marie continues to prod.

"I bet… seems like the last time I visited, you and Maura were glued at the hip."

Rizzoli turns fives shades of crimson while her brother nearly spits out his beer. Angela chimes in with her opinion.

"Dr. Isles – Maura – is an absolute doll, I love her like she was one of my own."

"I'm sure you do, Auntie, you finally have a daughter who knows how to wear a dress!"

Jane gulps her coffee, smacks her lips, and then responds to Marie's quip.

"I would ask to borrow one of yours… but we're not the same size."

Frankie looks to his father who took a little too long to make sure the barbecue was off.

"Hey, Pop, it's almost time for the Celtics game."

"Thank God it's almost time for the Celtics game!"

"C'mon, boys, LET'S GO CELTICS."

Frankie, Jane, and their father rhythmically clap in unison five times. They are stunned when Marie's sons don't share their team spirit. The eldest boy shrugs his shoulders.

"We're Nets fans."

The green-blooded Rizzoli gang now gasps in unison. Even Angela. Frankie leans over the table and gives Marie the zombie stare.

"That's gotta change!"

"Talk to their father, not me."

Jane raises an eyebrow.

"Where did you say Al was again?"

"Game time!"

As the males make their way over to the TV room, Jane shovels her remaining meal into her mouth because of three competing reasons – hunger, silence, and the need to leave. Angela makes one final attempt to keep the peace.

"So, Marie, your mother was telling me that Donna Lo Duca is having a potluck tomorrow in your honor."

"We haven't seen each other since her new baby – you know Donna, any excuse for a party."

Jane mutters under her breath.

"Funny, those were the exact words written about Donna next to her number in the Sunoco bathroom."

"Did you say something, Janie."

"Umm, as much as I love Aunt Celeste's pineapple pound cake, I really need to get a move on."

Jane darts up and takes her plate to the sink. Angela is instantly dismayed.

"Why do you have to go now?"

"Maura asked me to stop off at her place and pick up one of her medical books – it's important."

"Oh, of course, why didn't you say so?"

"I just did."

"My daughter will do anything for Dr. Isles."

"Not yet but soon."

Jane grabs her coat, kisses Angela on the cheek, hugs her Aunt Celeste, and sniffs in the direction of Marie. She flees out the door and almost makes it to her car. Almost. Marie's fishwife screech follows her down the street.

"Hey, Janie, Donna expects you at the potluck tomorrow, too."

"Can't, got things to do."

"Too bad, we're both going after mass whether you like it or not!"

"And how are you gonna make me, Marie?"

"Auntie Angela promised you would drive us there."

Jane winces in defeat and slams her car door. She pounds her glove-covered hands against the steering wheel a couple of times and groans louder than the engine.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF, MARIE, BECAUSE AL SURE AS HELL AIN'T DOIN' IT."

After driving around her old neighborhood to simmer down, she takes the scenic route to Maura's Back Bay abode. She can't really see anything because it is pitch black outside but the extra time in the car helps to settle her overtaxed stomach.

Rizzoli turns down Isles' tree-lined block and scans the dashboard time. She decides to make the call to the West Coast. Maura answers immediately. Her words are languid yet sultry.

"Hello, detective."

"Doctor… I just called to hear your voice."

"Heh, usually people would be saying that to you."

"As long as you're the only one saying it, I'm thrilled."

Jane parks the car and saunters down the damp sidewalk. Her frosty breath is illuminated by the belle époque streetlamps. Maura can tell straightaway that the object of her affection and adoration is agitated.

"Where are you?"

"Almost to your place."

For a split second, Isles is confused as to why Rizzoli would be at her house. Jane finishes her thought for her.

"You know, to pick up your book of boring anatomical parts."

"And using it as an excuse for an early adieu as suggested."

"I sure did… and thank you again."

"Do I dare ask how dinner was with your family?"

"Horrible… terrible… miserable."

"In that order?"

"Yes!"

"But at least the food was delicious."

"That's a given… but the real reason Aunt Celeste and her Satan's spawn daughter came to town was because Marie is fighting with her husband again – surprise, surprise – not out of genuine concern for me or Frankie."

"Aww, my poor baby."

"And she's forcing me to go to some stupid potluck with her tomorrow."

"What a noxious meany!"

"And she's a bitch, too!"

"Mmm, I wish I was there to kiss it all better."

Rizzoli freezes in her tracks. She suddenly senses where this chitchat is headed.

"Wha… whaddya doin' to me here, Freckles?"

Maura's devilish inflection drips with intent.

"Whatever you want, Stretch."

"Uhh…"

Jane now speeds up her pace toward the brownstone two houses away. The doctor takes notice.

"Your breathing is elevated."

"For the love of God, do not say anything Latin right now."

"How about I deeply sigh and whisper dirty ditties instead?"

"You sound sooo… relaxed."

"I am… now that I'm with you."

The detective nearly trips on an uneven part of the pavement as she rushes closer.

"Stop giving me ideas."

"One can never have too many of those…"

"Your phone must be on vibrate."

"I certainly don't need an electronic surrogate to feel your presence – I close my eyes and you are right here with me... in me."

"Oh, fuck."

"Yes, please."

Jane flies past the courtyard fountain and lands on the front porch. She thuds against the door.

"I'm about to enter your house, Maura."

"Ooh…"

Heavy panting is now on both ends of the phone call.

"I'm pounding down your door."

Rizzoli palms it three times with emphasis. Isles is insistent with her command.

"Harder…"

Jane bangs it louder a half dozen more times. Maura is finding it difficult to form words.

"Mmmore."

The detective now centers her middle finger on the small circle of the brass buzzer and pushes repeatedly.

"Hear that? – I'm ringing your doorbell…"

It chimes multiple times.

"Are you ready for delivery?"

"Come…inside…"

"I'm in your mailbox playing with the flap…"

It squeaks open and shut a few times.

"Sounds like it needs lube."

"Yes… oh, yes."

Jane turns on the small garden hose next to the topiary tree and douses the mailbox with it. Although completely aroused, Maura can't help but laugh out loud over the lengths her girlfriend is going to for their mutual expression of excitement.

"Impressive!"

"You're on the other side of the friggin' country…"

With each word, Rizzoli slams the hose against the house in equal parts anger and frustration.

"WHAT… ELSE… DO… YOU… WANT… ME… TO… DO?"

Isles purrs into the phone.

"Don't stop."

Jane searches around and grabs the ornamental sundial next to the porch with one hand.

"SAY GOODYE TO YOUR STUPID LITTLE SUNDIAL… THEY HAVE THINGS CALLED CLOCKS NOW… IN PHONES…"

She hurls it through the side window. The sound of the shattering glass resounds all the way to the West Coast. Maura is on the verge.

"BREAK DOWN MY DOOR, JANE."

"UUUGGGHHH."

Two swift kicks knock it off its hinges. Rizzoli crashes through the remaining frame and tumbles hard. Now sprawled out on the entranceway floor, she sucks in air as the reverberations of Maura's orgasm clash with the shrieking security alarm.

"Oh… oh, Jane… that was so intense."

"Ow."

"Are you okay?"

"I think I snapped something, Maura."

"Ice it."

"Believe me, I'm gonna be needing ice for every part of me."

The detective staggers to her feet and shuffles over to the control panel.

"What's your security code again?"

"You don't remember?"

"My mind is pretty much jelly at the moment… along with other areas."

"5263."

Jane punches the corresponding buttons and the house is silent once again.

"What is that, some kind atomic number or something?"

"It's the alphanumeric keypad equivalent to 'Jane'… because you make me feel safe."

"Aww said the woman who just smashed a bunch of your stuff... and you make me feel... everything."

An elderly man in his underwear and bathrobe now appears at the door.

"FREEZE, YOU LOUSY TROUBLEMAKER…"

"WHOA, HOLD ON."

"I'VE CALLED THE POLICE."

"I AM THE POLICE."

"THEN WHY DID YOU BREAK IN?"

"UUUHHH."

"CITIZEN'S ARREST."

"Jane… that sounds like my neighbor, Mr. Rimpau – let me talk to him!"

"MR. RIMPAU, SIR, I AM A FRIEND OF MAURA'S AND SHE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU."

"DR. ISLES ISN'T HERE, YOU THINK I'M SENILE?"

"I HAVE HER ON THE PHONE."

"WHAT?"

"THE PHONE, SHE'S ONE THE PHONE."

"I DIDN'T HEAR THE PHONE RING, MAKE ANOTHER MOVE AND YOU'LL BE SORRY."

"LET ME JUST TURN ON A LIGHT AND YOU'LL SEE…"

"I'M WARNING YOU…"

"DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR DENTURES AT ME?"

"AAARRRGGGHHH."

"AAAYYYIIIIEEE."

"JANE, WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

The detective is writhing on the floor, choking and coughing.

"HE JUST FUCKING PEPPER SPRAYED ME… ACK-ACK… YOU CRAZY TOOTHLESS WRINKLED UP OLD NUTSACK… GAG."

"DON'T TALK AND RESIST THE URGE TO RUB YOURSELF, JANE."

"Soooonotinthemoodnow... eck."

"LISTEN TO ME – SHORT BREATHS, BLINK REPEATEDLY, AND TRY NOT TO TOUCH THE AFFECTED AREAS."

Moments later, a patrolman from the private security firm and two BPD officers arrive on scene. One of the officers recognizes the detective and helps her with the decontamination process. Over the phone, the doctor assures everyone involved that the break-in was an intentional accident and explains it away with the need for her medical book without revealing the true juicy details.

After Jane strategically wipes herself in the bathroom with cool water and baby shampoo, Mr. Rimpau apologizes. The officers have a good laugh over the whole ordeal and take their leave 20 minutes later. Rizzoli still isn't laughing. She's curled up on the sofa as Isles remains on the phone.

"It will take some time for the Oleoresin Capsicum effects to wear off…"

"I know the drill, Maura, I was trained for this."

"I am so very sorry this happened to you, Jane."

"For an old guy, he has good aim."

"Are you sure you're okay to stay?"

"Yeah."

"I called the locksmith and repairman, they'll be there within the hour."

"At this time of night?"

"I can afford their rates."

"Good, I wouldn't want anything to happen to your kooky loose change bowl."

"That bowl you always toss your car keys in is a rare Senufo piece worth more than your actual car."

"Have you ever heard of a museum?"

"It's call a private collection."

"Of course."

"Thank you, Jane…"

"For what?"

"For never a dull moment."

"Anytime, Maura."

"Why don't you try to calm down and watch something on TV?"

"Hmm, I believe Frankie left a DVD in my car..."


	14. Chapter 14

Part 14 – Best out of three

It is that time in the morning where Jane Rizzoli is no longer asleep but is too tired to open her eyes. The craziness of the previous night continues to sap her strength but she takes comfort in Maura's obscenely high thread-count sheets and the scent of the doctor still perceptible in the linen. She inhales deeply.

The detective feels a bit like Goldilocks who, at last, found her favorite resting place. Jane's own bed back at her apartment is hard and cold; her childhood one at her parents' house is soft and lumpy; but Maura's mattress is just right. Perfect, in fact – except for the lack of Isles' presence by her side.

Rizzoli sighs in anguish and forces her eyelids open. She peers at the silver clock in the corner and realizes she is late for church. It would be easy for her to duck out of the family obligation by claiming she overslept. A wholehearted half truth would work well with her folks but there is no way she could escape Donna's potluck lunch of doom. Jane steeled herself for the afternoon ahead.

Besides her cousin, many former classmates would undoubtedly be at Donna Lo Duca's little get-together. Jane considers wearing the vintage vermilion Gianni Versace cocktail dress that Maura tailored for her just to see the expression on everyone's face. However, sensibility kicked in and she settled on black skinny jeans and a blue silk blouse. This was as 'cleaned up' as she was going to get. And she only wore that dress for Maura.

Later on outside of St. Anthony's, Jane greets her family with a half wave and a penitent sulk. Her father is the only one who truly understands. He hugs his daughter and takes off with Frankie to the nearest sports bar. Angela and her sister walk across the parking lot to the church hall for bingo while Marie loads the chicken cacciatore into the trunk. The two cousins ride in silence to Donna's house in Mattapan.

The youngest Lo Duca daughter was always the most boisterous of all their mutual friends. And absolutely nothing has changed more than a decade later. With earrings too large and too glitzy for the occasion, Donna duels Marie for the diarrhea of the mouth award as Jane and the others duel over the contents of the cooling casserole dishes.

Now settling into dessert, the detective is grateful that the gabfest never veers too far into Bobby Marino and the shooting. Everyone is glad that Jane and Frankie made it out alive and offer quick comments about how great she looks. Abruptly, the focus switches back to PTA meetings, cake recipes, diaper rash, and double coupons.

Rizzoli attempts to chat with Donna's sister about a grisly murder that recently took place in Maine and was all over the local news. After a few minutes, she could see the young woman's eyes glaze over when it came to bullet trajectories and fingerprint analysis. It was far from the overly glamorized Hollywood version of a crime scene and the woman rapidly lost interest.

Jane knew everyone in that room could not even begin to relate to what she saw on a daily basis. Nor could they comprehend what she and her fellow peace officers went through when they had to walk through pools of human blood – especially the blood that once belonged inside their butchered brothers in blue.

But Maura got it. Maura understood. Always.

The disgruntled detective is about to excuse herself to go outside and text her disarming doctor when Donna drags her into the conversation.

"Your turn, Jane."

"Huh?"

"Your creepy old man story?"

"How did you know about Mr. Rimpau? – it only happened last night and the damn pepper spray is still driving me nuts!"

Everyone looks confused. Marie waves her hand in her cousin's face.

"Janie… the creepy old man you slept with story – every girl who isn't a lesbo has a creepy old man they slept with story – what's yours?"

"Uhh…"

Jane tries to recall if she ever indeed slept with a creepy old man and tries to come up with a convincing lie at the same time. Before she can spit the words out, Marie grabs the spotlight and aims it directly at herself.

"I did it with my ninth grade history teacher!"

A cacophony of giggles, groans, and wolf whistles fills the room. Marie preens the cracker crumbs off of her skirt as she smiles with satisfaction. Jane is flabbergasted as she glowers at her cousin.

"You mean, Mr. Hughes?"

"More like 'Mr. Huge'…"

Everyone snickers save for one tall, lithe brunette. Her indignation only deepens.

"Mr. Hughes… with a wife and three kids?"

"It was only two kids at the time."

"Uh, okay, as completely reprehensible as that is, he took advantage of you, Marie – it's called statutory rape."

"Back then it was called getting an A without doing any homework, am I right, ladies?"

Everyone laughs and nods except the detective.

"This, this needs to be reported... who knows how many other schoolgirls he did this to."

"Calm it down, Janie – stop playing the buzzkill cop for once and lighten up!"

Before Rizzoli or her cousin can say another word, Donna offers up her lurid tale of the father of the kids she babysat for. Another woman quickly counters with a liaison involving the neighborhood priest and so forth and so on. Jane isn't sure what is fact and what is fiction but she knows that she has had more than enough of this 50 shades of bullshit.

"I… really need to get going."

Marie isn't ready to leave or back down.

"How about your society page lady… Maura?"

The name sends a subtle shockwave rippling down Rizzoli's throat as she remains frozen to her chair. Marie presses on.

"I bet she has more than a few creepy old man stories… in fact, I bet she has men of all ages hanging off the ceiling for her."

Jane wrestles with her growing rage and remains mute as Donna looks perplexed.

"Who the hell is Maura?"

"Oh, that's my cousin's new play date – some prissy princess who puts fennel in her potato salad."

Everyone gasps their disapproval of the doctor's spice choice. Marie continues to turn the screws.

"Maura may look all prim and proper but I bet she loves to take it up the ass."

Jane lunges out of her chair, spilling her lemonade and nearly knocking over the folding table between her and her cousin.

"Just because your life is boring and miserable and you have to read trashy supermarket novels to get wet, don't reduce everyone to your level, Marie."

A low collective "woooooh" rumbles around the room as Marie narrows her eyes.

"And just because you have a shiny badge and a shiny bitch doesn't make you shit platinum."

A bigger "woooooh" whirls among the potluck lunch ladies as Jane grabs her coat.

"That's it, I'm done."

Marie follows behind her.

"You think you're better than us, Janie?"

Oh, trust me… I don't have to think it."

The biggest "woooooh" yet is heard as they head out the front door. The second the door slams shut, Jane whips around and points angrily at the house.

"Tell me, Marie, why do you want to live the stereotype?"

"It's not a stereotype to us – you just forgot who you fucking are and where you fucking came from, your fucking royal highness… try not to trip on any fucking corgis on your way to the fucking Back Bay!"

"FUCK YOU."

"See how quickly it comes back, Janie?"

"No wonder Al can't stand to be around you – I don't understand French but I do understand Bitch!"

"Go fuck yourself… better yet, go fuck your friend Maura."

Jane attempts to fight off a glimmer in her eye and quickly turns away from Marie. Rizzoli stomps down the walkway toward her car.

"You can find your own ride back to the house."

Jane is fast but Marie is faster. Her cousin caught the fleeting look in her eye and catches up to her on the pavement.

"Oh, wait a minute… hold on here…"

Marie now stands in front of Jane, blocking her access to the car door.

"Are you fucking her, Janie?"

The detective is unable to make eye contact with her cousin.

"You have two seconds to get out of my way, Marie."

"OH MY GOD, YOU ARE – YOU'RE DOING IT WITH THAT DOCTOR CHICK, I KNEW IT."

Jane reaches out with her left hand, grabs a hold of Marie's entire face and forces her jaw shut as she pushes her up against the car.

"Since you won't close your fucking mouth, I'll help you…"

Not letting go, Rizzoli gets right inside her cousin's ear and snarls.

"Now listen carefully, if you breathe one single word of this to my parents before I tell them myself or blab about my personal business to anyone else in the entire commonwealth, I will buy a fucking neon billboard and let everyone know how you went to New York City to get an abortion – twice!"

Jane throws her hand off of Marie's face and steps back. Her cousin is momentarily stunned.

"If you want to go nuclear, Marie, and play a game of mutual assured destruction, I am more than happy to be your U.S.S.R. – am I making myself clear here?"

The cousin takes a deep breath, straightens out her dress, and regains her composure.

"Well, now I get why you turned down Sammy's brother's bowling invite."

Jane coolly brushes past her and slides inside the car. She starts up the engine.

"Goodbye, Marie – I hope to not see you again soon."

As Jane speeds off down the street, the cousin calls after the car.

"I knew you liked soccer a little too much!"

After driving aimlessly for an hour, Jane spots the local gun club frequented by fellow law enforcement agents. She pulls into the parking lot and steps inside. Friendly familiar faces invite her to shoot and she gladly takes them up on their offer.

It is rather odd and ironic how the firing of a weapon is one of the few things besides Maura to completely calm Jane's nerves. On her way back from renting a pair of eye and ear protectors, she spots Officer Michelle Hall in one of the shooting bays. She slowly approaches and admires the shot making ability of her former academy classmate.

"You were always better with a 9mm than I was."

"Detective Rizzoli."

"Officer Hall…"

"I haven't seen you since that day at the McAllister house."

"Yeah, that was a rough afternoon for everyone."

"So, how are you doing?"

"Hanging in there, how's your wife?"

"Her pregnancy hormones are why I'm here today."

"Ahh, gotcha."

They are both smiling but Jane can sense the uneasiness on Michelle's part. She decides to cut the tension with a less demanding commonality.

"Whoa, love the black diamond plate on your Sig!"

"Thanks, it was a birthday gift from Cheryl."

"May I?"

"Sure."

Jane firmly takes the Sig Sauer SP2022 and squeezes off a few rounds.

"Nice."

"I know."

"Care to make a little wager?"

"Best out of three?"

"You're on."

Rizzoli knows Hall is a sucker for competition and the two take out their frustrations on the black and white paper targets. The detective is only at about 80% of her normal fitness level but her accuracy is still on point. With empty ammo boxes around them, it is a narrow victory in favor of Michelle. Jane acquiesces and applauds.

"Guess I'm buying the beers."

"Can you drink beer yet?"

"Oh yeah, ain't nothin' stopping me now, especially after today."

"Let me guess… your mother?"

"Worse… a potluck lunch with my cousin."

"Good God, thankfully the bar is right across the street."

"Let's go!"

Rizzoli is secretly thrilled to have her old buddy back and the two of them sit and talk and drink for over three hours. So many topics of conversation are covered and covered again. Unfortunately, the big gay elephant in the room is avoided even though Jane tries to tackle it a few times. She reverts back to the safety of children.

"Brixton… you're seriously gonna saddle your kid with a name like Brixton Hall?"

"It's Cheryl's idea."

"It sounds like the library we used to study in at the academy."

The two laugh loudly and order another round. Jane chomps on some pretzel sticks and grins.

"This is fun, we should do this more often."

Michelle doesn't return the happy face and Jane notices.

"Did I say something wrong, Hall?"

"Sorry."

"About what?"

"I don't want to be your wing-woman."

"My what?"

"Now that our friendship is suddenly convenient for you, Jane, I just can't."

"I don't understand what the hell you're trying to say."

"You need to find another pink pal."

"Huh?"

"I know you're missing your woman like crazy but she's the one you need to talk to about… all of this."

"Uh, if by 'all of this' you mean the Red Sox shitty bullpen, then Maura is the wrong person to talk to."

"I'm talking about who you finally are, Rizzoli."

"Jesus, Michelle, it's not like I'm asking you to point me to the nearest pride parade or borrow your Xena DVDs – I just had some questions, that's all."

"I understand that but you need to understand that I am no longer where you are in your life – that was well over a lifetime ago for me – right now, I have a wife and we're about to go from a duo to a trio in a matter of weeks... 19 days to be exact."

As Hall nervously plays with the salted peanuts, Rizzoli connects the puzzles pieces to the woman's stress and gently rubs her shoulder.

"We're only sharing drinks here for the first time in like forever – I don't want a tour of all the queer bars."

Michelle sighs and rubs her face.

"I apologize, my bad, my mind is on rewriting the mortgage, figuring out the best college fund, and wondering whether or not I should take a job in the private sector because I don't want my family watching my bloody body carried out on the evening news."

Something about Hall's words causes Rizzoli to choke up. She feels the tears trying to escape but strangles them back. Michelle drains the last of her beer.

"I realize how much you need a friend right now, Jane, but I think I still hold too much resentment towards you from the way you treated me before."

"How many more times do you want me to apologize for that?"

"I don't… I should be the bigger person here but even at 5'11", I guess… I guess I'm not."

Michelle pulls out the money for the tab but Jane already hands the bill to the bartender.

"The drinks are covered…"

"I'm so sorry Jane."

"No worries."

Officer Hall jumps off the barstool and heads for the door while Jane winces. Too many beers and too many emotions send Rizzoli running to the bathroom. She locks herself in one of the stalls and tries to decide if she wants to cry or pee. She does both.

The day with Marie was bad enough but hearing those words out of Michelle's mouth made it all too real for Jane. She is now thinking the formerly unthinkable – a future with a wife and a mortgage and a baby. A future with Maura! And then Bobby Marino suddenly blasts his way back into her brain.

For the first time since shooting herself to save Frankie, Jane allows herself to sob uncontrollably. The tears flow freely and she doesn't care if anyone can hear her. She rocks back and forth on the plastic toilet seat and goes through half a roll of paper drying her face.

Moments later, there is a soft knock on the stall door. Jane assumes it is another patron.

"I'll be done in a minute, thanks."

"Jane… are you okay?"

"Michelle?"

Jane quickly pulls up her jeans, flushes, and opens the door. Hall hangs her head and leans back against the green peeling wallpaper as Rizzoli washes up in the sink. The silence between them lingers. Jane finally breaks it as she sniffles and wipes her nose.

"Um, is your car not working? – do you need me to call you a cab?"

"No, Jane, I came back in here because I owed you an honest explanation."

"You don't owe me anything."

Michelle slowly approaches Jane and holds eye contact with her in the mirror.

"I'm sorry I made you cry... or maybe I'm not."

Jane turns around and faces her. Michelle inches closer.

"The real reason I started getting defensive out there and acting like a stone-cold bitch is because I never stopped being attracted to you... even now."

Before Jane can react, Hall smothers Rizzoli's lips with her own. The kiss is long and hard. The detective breaks it off and spins to the side.

"Okay, okay, it's been a long day for both of us, you're freaking out about the baby and I'm freaking out about… everything… and the beers didn't help."

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this with you?"

Michelle pulls Jane to her and kisses her even harder. Rizzoli tries to form more words of rationalization with her tongue but Hall's tongue wrestles it into submission. The two slowly back into the handicapped stall and lock the door behind them.

For several minutes, the kissing intensifies and their hands are all over each other. The overheated grope-fest remains exactly as it is as both fully-clothed parties are afraid of going beyond the point of no return. Jane's arms are firmly locked around Michelle's neck as she keeps her eyes shut and imagines kissing Maura's face.

Michelle's hand suddenly slides down and attempts a fast foray inside Jane's jeans but it is solidly rebuffed. Undeterred, the hand now sneaks between her thighs, cups the center, and begins to rub rhythmically.

Rizzoli ferociously battles against the burgeoning betrayal and her body's need for release. Sensing this, Michelle falls to her knees and fumbles to unbutton and unzip the denim barrier between them, but she is emphatically shoved away at the last possible second.

"Don't!"

"Jane…"

"I SAID DON'T."

Rizzoli charges out of the stall and leans over to catch her breath.

"This was… an extremely bad situation… that got way out of control… way too fast."

Michelle comes up behind her in a last ditch effort.

"Please, Jane, I wanna be with you."

"You wanna be with your wife… and I wanna be with Maura."

"No one will ever know."

"I will know!"

The detective now uses her training to physically throw off the officer.

"Stop it, Michelle, I mean it."

Hall recognizes when Rizzoli is serious and correctly concludes that her seven-minutes-in-heaven dream ride is now at a dead end. Jane scowls in her direction.

"We're buzzed and we're horny and that's a killer combo – so, we're going to chalk this up to a big mistake and it's never, ever going to happen again."

"But there's so much more we could do."

"We've done enough."

"We…"

"There is no 'we,' Michelle, and there never will be."

"Jane…"

"Go home to Cheryl!"

The detective storms out of the bathroom and pushes past the other bar patrons. The night air causes momentary confusion as she searches around for her car. She spots the vehicle in its proper parking space, gets inside, and zooms out of the lot. She only makes it around the block before she has to pull over. She is in no shape to drive.

Jane now understands that there was never any way she could truly be 'just friends' with Michelle. Rizzoli vows to herself that the next time she runs into Officer Hall, she will turn and head in the opposite direction. She goes to call Frankie to pick her up and notices a text message from earlier blinking on her phone. It's from Maura:

_**How was the potluck?**_

Jane answers immediately:

_**I'm so glad you put fennel in your potato salad!**_

Rizzoli now switches her phone to make an outgoing call. She checks a few numbers and dials.

"Hi, when is the next flight to San Diego?"

**Author's note: I write this fanfic out of pure affection for the Jane & Maura characters and the blinding need to see proper representation. And in return, I ask for nothing… but I am asking for something now. It's not for me, per se, but for all of us.**

**If you are perfectly content with duplicitous subtext, awful clichés, and being treated like second-class citizens by network programming, then by all means keep enjoying the status quo. But if you are totally fed up with it like I am, here is a great way to remedy the situation:**

**Please help support _The Nikki & Nora Files_ on indiegogo – it's at the half-way point for funding with less than two weeks left. I've already pitched in a sizeable contribution and would be beyond thrilled if y'all took a few moments to spread the word, the moolah, and the love. Thanks: )**

**Since links aren't allowed in these chapter posts, please go to slynellie dot blogspot dot com for the URL and a more in depth justification, thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15 – Exam Room 8

Inside the overflowing San Diego county clinic for the uninsured, Dr. Maura Isles is finishing up with a patient. It is a revolving door of desperate people and the doctor is slightly overwhelmed with her first day on the temp job. Dr. Ramachandran drops by with a neatly folded brown bag.

"Lunchtime, darling!"

"No time, Shoky, thanks."

"Make time, Maura, or you will be of no use to anyone."

"It's barely noon and I've already had three lac repairs, an I&D, two small burn treatments, and a foreign body removal – palm frond… don't ask where."

"Ahh, miss dead people yet?"

"I do but this has been invigorating."

They go into the tiny break room and sit at a square table just big enough for the both of them. He opens the bag and pulls out a peanut butter sandwich on whole wheat, apple slices, and an energy drink. Maura laughs and eagerly chomps on one of the slices.

"Mmm, med school all over again."

"Why do you think I'm shuttered up in a quiet research laboratory all day long?"

Maura gobbles down her sandwich and follows it with a long swig of her drink.

"Oh, the coroner called today and asked if I would like to assist the hospital pathologist on a few autopsies."

"Are you going to accept?"

"I would love to but I'm so busy here – I told him if he has any questions to call."

"Yes, I do believe you have enough on your plate right now… and if I am being completely honest and selfish, I want my dancing partner on the weekends."

"Heh."

Maura has a soft smile and a distant look in her eyes. Shoky can't help but notice.

"Apparently all the distractions in the world aren't enough to stop your thoughts about a certain someone."

"I cannot deny that I would rather be working on a case with Jane… but this is necessary for the time being."

"You know, in all of our conversations about Detective Tall, Dark, and Hairy, you failed to mention what exactly it was that finally forced you two to take the next step."

Maura's eyebrow acknowledges the question as she drains the can and smacks her lips.

"It's funny, I was ruminating over the exact same thing the other night – the attraction has always been there for us but I assumed she would never act on it due to her fear."

"About her family or herself?"

"Both, I believe… and I also assumed she wanted our friendship to stay professional."

"What changed?"

"At first, I thought it was a simple moment of liquid courage combined with the convenience of a mattress…"

"Tale as old time."

"But as I look back on it, I can pinpoint the exact minute when things started to change..."

"Well?"

"We had lunch with Tundie."

"God help you all, said the grateful-to-be-gay man!"

"Heh, so you do remember her."

"Oh yes, how could I ever forget that one… I'm sure your former boarding school buddy made quite the impression on your current lady love."

"Indeed, it was an interesting lunch to say the least… and two days later, Jane finally took the initiative – I believe it was because she realized I had female lovers as well as male."

"The inciting… or perhaps the exciting incident for your dashing detective."

Maura flashes a knowing grin at her friend while a young medical assistant informs her of her next patient.

"Duty calls – thank you for the thoughtful and much needed lunch break."

"My pleasure and we will most definitely pick up on the Tundie-meets-Jane saga next time… after the samba."

"Bye, Shoky."

Maura delves back into doctoring for the rest of the afternoon. While finishing up chart notes, she can't help but drift back to that fateful lunch at _La Faim _where her first flame met the woman who would hopefully be her last.

Twice a year, Tundie Rosendahl hops across the pond to attend seasonal charity events and visit with dear friends along the Eastern Seaboard. The exotic Brit beauty with a blend of Norwegian and Jamaican drops by Boston after making the rounds in DC and NYC.

The resort magnate delicately sips the last of her brut champagne and pokes at the escargot as the commonwealth's chief ME selectively updates her life over salmon pâté.

"Yes, it was quite a shock to discover my biological half-brother after performing a post mortem on him."

"Nasty… so did you find out who your true parents are?"

"My true parents, for better or worse, are the ones who raised me."

"Of course, Mauz, no offense."

"The DNA situation is difficult to get into at the moment… suffice it to say, it has been more than complex since the last time we shared quiche."

"And that's the reason…"

"Reason for what?"

"The absence of a handsome gentleman on your arm… or in your bed."

A wistful smile crosses Maura's face.

"Oh, there have been a few but not… not for awhile now."

"Are you ill?"

"Work… um, work keeps me distracted."

Tundie playfully pulls at a crust of bread as she notices her friend's far off gaze.

"What is his name?"

"I told you I'm not involved with anyone at the moment."

"Aah, even better, what is HER name?"

"How did you know it was a woman?"

"I know you well, Mauz… too well as you undoubtedly recall."

"Then you should know that I'm not about to let you have the last frog leg."

The two fight over the fricasseed amphibian thigh. Maura wins and triumphantly places it on her plate out of Tundie's reach.

"Don't think your little diversionary tactic has made me forget about your girlfriend."

"She's not a girlfriend girl friend, she's a coworker whom I happen to be close friends with."

"But you want more."

"But she doesn't."

"She rejected you? – is she blind or running for Pope?"

"I have never approached her about it."

"Then how do you know unless you try?"

"It's not as simple as a summer picnic in the Alps."

"Sometimes, it is."

Tundie brushes Maura's finger tips with her own. Maura politely pulls them away.

"I don't want to jeopardize what Ja… this woman and I have together as colleagues."

Tundie pours more champagne into both of their glasses.

"I do believe there is a beverage for that."

"Why don't you tell me the latest about your fabulous rugby star husband and your amazing children?"

"You know, because some of us have settled down into wedded bliss doesn't mean the rest of you should."

Maura laughs out loud and adopts an incredulous visage.

"Liar… I know how many affairs you've had since you've said 'I do.'"

"We could relive our school days."

"No, thank you – I actually like your family."

"Please, take them, I need a vacation!"

"You're on vacation."

"Right."

The waiter brings them their main courses as Maura rubs her hands in anticipation. She quickly takes her knife and fork to the crêpes de lapin confit. After a few bites, she notices Tundie's fixed, wide eyes staring directly over her shoulder.

"What's the matter, is your coq au vin cold?"

"The… most… splendid creature has appeared across the room."

Maura turns around and catches the eye of her favorite detective.

"Jane!"

The dour look on Rizzoli's face disappears into a bright smile as she makes her way over to Isles' table.

"Maura, I'm so sorry to disturb your lunch, I know it's your day off but I caught a case that's right up your alley… and right around the block."

"Is it urgent or do I have time to finish my meal?"

"Sure, go ahead, the dead guy won't mind."

Tundie lunges forward to offer her hand but Jane is too busy melting eyeballs with Maura to notice. The suddenly invisible party makes her presence known.

"Ahem, Mauz, you always had impeccable taste."

Jane playfully teases Maura about her nickname.

"Mauz? – really?"

Maura inadvertently flirts by smacking Jane on the arm.

"Don't be bourgeois."

Tundie instantly picks up on their chemistry and winks at Jane.

"But can she spell it?"

The detective responds with the patented Rizzoli glare.

"And you are?"

The doctor intervenes.

"My apologizes, ladies – Jane, this is Tundie Rosendahl, we attended Monte Rosa in Switzerland together as teenagers – and Tundie, this is Jane Rizzoli… my friend and coworker."

"OOOH, of course… how lovely to meet you!"

"Yeah, hi… listen, Maura, Korsak is already at the scene and I've texted you all the info."

Tundie looks puzzled as Maura switches from drinking champagne to ice water.

"Does a medical examiner often go out on cases with the police?"

Jane answers in a flat, measured tone.

"This one does."

"Iii seeeee."

Maura nervously scans for the waiter.

"We need more bread – Jane, why don't you join us?"

"As long as I'm not interrupting."

Tundie kicks Maura under the table.

"Yes, by all means, Ms. Rizzoli, please join us."

"It's detective, actually."

Maura asks the waiter for another place setting as Jane pushes herself in between the two women. She deliberately sits closer to the doctor and tries to be polite.

"So, Trudie, do you live here or are you visiting?"

"It's Tundie, actually."

Maura senses Jane's growing unease and spews formal facts to save the day.

"Tundie's great uncle founded many five-star resorts here in the U.S. and around the world."

"Huh, my great uncle built a duplex in Billerica."

Tundie turns up her nose and then looks down it at Jane.

"Unfortunately, I'm only here for the evening to attend a philanthropic affair."

"Do you do any actual work with the charity or just show up and look pretty?"

"Jane."

"Oh, I do more than look pretty, I can assure you."

"Well, one day you will have to join me and Maura on one of our monthly visits to the pediatric oncology ward."

"Hmm."

Tundie bites her lips and then in an aside to Maura in French:

"Aww, Mauz, you already have her trained with the dying kids, you must really crave what's in between her legs!"

Maura covers her mouth and coughs. She regains her composure and sweetly smiles.

"I bet you're famished, Jane."

"Well, now that you've mentioned it..."

The detective takes a whiff of the doctor's plate.

"Something smells delicious."

Tundie inhales Jane's mane behind her back and winks at Maura.

"It most certainly does."

Maura silent chides her old chum as a clueless Jane tries to decide which delicacy to put in her mouth first.

"What is this?"

"Cuisses de grenouilles… try it."

"I hope it tastes as good as it sounds."

Jane takes a bite as Maura and Tundie watch intently.

"Mmm, not bad – what is it, some Frenchie version of a chicken wing?"

Maura smirks at Jane.

"You could say that."

Tundie douses Jane with a cold hose made out of reality.

"It's a frog leg, sweetheart!"

Jane throws down the leg and scrunches up her face in disgust.

"EEEWWW, GROSS."

An exasperated Maura shoots both Tundie and Jane a disapproving look.

"You liked it before you knew what it was."

"What else are you gonna make me put in my mouth, Maura?"

"Yes, Mauz, what else do you have in mind for her and may I be of assistance?"

Maura barks at Tundie to stop in a frank franco tongue.

"Arrêtes s'il te plais!"

Tundie backs off as Jane stares at the snails.

"I know what those are and there is no way in hell."

"You have no problem with calamari… you do realize that's squid?"

"I don't have a problem with squid because it sounds… and tastes better in Italian."

Tundie goes to say something but Maura glott blocks her with a swipe at Jane.

"You're a chauvinist, Detective Rizzoli!"

"Hey, I have no problem with women…"

"Good news for you, Mauz!"

Jane is not oblivious to Tundie's remarks but is opting to ignore the insinuation. Maura tries to stabilize the conversation with a dry definition.

"I wasn't referring to male chauvinism, Jane, but rather a national or cultural preference."

Jane is perturbed.

"I know exactly what the word means, Maura, you weren't the only one who got into BCU remember!"

Maura is quickly taken aback by the thought of hurting her friend's feelings.

"I'm so sorry, Jane, I didn't mean to condescend."

Jane softens and continues to play along.

"I know, woman, now be quiet and butter my froggy frou frou muffin."

Before either Rizzoli or Isles can chuckle, Rosendahl grabs Maura's forearm and squeals.

"Okay, now I know you two are putting on a show for me, this is something Kimptin would do… KIMPTIN, ARE YOU HERE?"

Tundie visually searches around the restaurant for their drama class instructor as Maura again tries to change the subject.

"Here, Jane, eat this before it gets cold… I promise you it's not something you would find in a terrarium."

"Are you sure because you have your 'Jane Rizzoli is a rube' face on."

"No, I don't – I have my 'Jane Rizzoli is a Rubik's Cube' face on."

"Are you calling me a toy?"

Isles pinches Rizzoli's chin dimple.

"Not a toy but a colorful, three-dimensional puzzle that is in constant need of solving and one can't wait to get one's hands on it."

Tundie gags loudly and then claps slowly.

"You two need to do it and do it now!"

Jane reluctantly takes a bite of Maura's crepes. Her taste buds force her to acknowledge their pleasure.

"Fine, this is really good… please don't tell me what's in here until I finish."

She scarfs it down in three more bites. Maura busies herself with buttering muffins for both of them while Tundie plays the spoiler once again.

"It's lapin… rabbit."

Jane swallows hard.

"Great, now I have the Easter Bunny in my mouth."

Tundie doesn't miss a beat.

"Think of your last boyfriend, detective, surely you've had worse things in your mouth."

Maura remembers Jane's last boyfriend and is unable to stifle her snorting guffaw. This elicits laughter all around. Emboldened by the comical turn, Maura pushes for more.

"And you can tell Angela that you officially had bunny pancakes today!"

Only Jane is laughing this time. Maura explains it to Tundie.

"Inside joke."

Jane texts a picture of the crêpes to her mother as Tundie whispers in Maura's ear.

"Just how inside is it and when are we all going back to my penthouse?"

"Play nice."

"Never."

Unaware of the exchange, Jane fades Tundie completely out of her mind and focuses solely on Maura.

"Rodents, reptiles, and insects… why don't I give you a fork and turn you loose in Ma's garden?"

Tundie rapidly reappears.

"Oh, I'm sure Mauz would love for you to give her a good, long fork but I do believe she would rather be turned loose in your garden."

Rizzoli has had it with the double entendre shower and can no longer hold back.

"Lady, what is your problem? – have you had too much bubbly because your brain is on fizz."

Isles attempts to laugh it off.

"She's only being Tundie, don't take her seriously, Jane."

"Tundie is being a creep and she needs to stop."

"Break out your handcuffs and make me!"

"Sorry, I like men!"

Rosendahl gets right in Rizzoli's face.

"Now I know you're not an actor putting on a show because that was the least believable line I have ever heard delivered in my entire life."

Jane squints her eyes and slowly draws a breath. Maura grabs a passing waiter.

"We need some cheese and pastries!"

He hustles over with the dessert cart. Everyone calms down and orders from it. With their mouths occupied with food, the chatter is limited. Tundie is the first to offer an innocuous comment.

"Mmm, this reblochon is almost as good as the one we had in Chamonix."

Maura take a bite and agrees. They giggle a little too long. Jane picks up on their intimate interaction as she nibbles at her éclair. She takes a stab at small talk.

"You're blue cheese there looks tasty, Maura."

"Would you like to try some of my roquefort?"

"Ooh, pahdon moi, I don't think youh roquefoht would wohk too well with my desseht."

Maura instinctively starts to stroke small circles around the back of her best friend.

"Jane, you must be tired… your accent is coming out."

Tundie in another aside to Maura in French:

"At least something of hers is…"

"What did she say?"

Isles rubs a little harder to calm Rizzoli down.

"It was only a simple observation – you lose your 'r' when you're angry, enthusiastic, or exhausted."

"Of couhse… it's been a long week."

Tundie cocks an eyebrow at both of them.

"Who knew being a-rhotic could be so erotic… ouais?"

Maura immediately stops rubbing Jane's back and switches to drinking her ice water. Rizzoli stiffens again but tries to stay on topic.

"You know, I've heard your mother speak on your voicemail, Maura – she sounds like she belongs on a PBS special."

"Yes, Constance is quite proud of her posh RP."

"How come you don't sound like that?"

"I suppose I lost my accent in boarding school."

Instead of a whispered aside in French, Tundie conspicuously plants a solitary kiss on Maura's cheek and looks Jane squarely in the eye.

"That's not all she lost in boarding school."

Maura is speechless and can only watch the face of Jane. A thousand colored Christmas bulbs light up in the detective's brain and then shatter in slow motion one by one.

"Um, you two… were uhh huh."

Maura's mouth is so dry she is unable to speak but Tundie proudly answers for her.

"A small spring fling to pop the cork, so to say."

"That's enough, Tundie."

"You will always be one of my favorite vintages, Mauz."

"I said that is enough!"

Rizzoli is unable to find the words so she stares intently at her plate. She does not notice as the district attorney and his wife approach the table. Tundie chats up the couple over mutual charity interests as Maura's attempts at establishing eye contact with Jane fall flat.

Over the next several minutes, Isles keeps the conversation going with Tundie, the DA and his wife in order to give herself time to think as to what to she should say about her relationship with the Rosendahl heir or if she should speak of it any further.

The detective deliberately does not join in the exchange but does not leave, either. It's obvious she has more questions for the doctor but is unable to articulate them. So, she stuffs her mouth with whatever is in front of her and nervously bounces the pent up energy through her leg under the table.

Maura instantly senses the vibration next to her and gently grabs a hold of Jane's knee. She firmly squeezes it until the staccato shin shimmy simmers down. Now relaxed back into her seat, the detective asks a question of the DA before he departs.

"There are gonna be a lot of high profile witnesses we'll need to question with these DJ murders… should I expect interference from your department or do we have a long leash?"

"Simply do your job, Detective Rizzoli, and I will do mine."

Maura is slightly surprised when Jane does not retort back.

"Goodbye, Dr. Isles, we'll see you at the charity auction tonight."

Tundie exchanges fake hugs and air kisses with the wife as the DA departs. Jane is still unusually silent. Maura trails Jane's gaze down to under the table where she sees her own hand has inadvertently moved from the kneecap and is now massaging languid circles halfway up her friend's inner thigh.

The doctor enters into a silent raging debate with herself as her hand does not stop, nor does it want to. She has rubbed her best friend's neck, back, feet, temples, and shoulders before without a second thought but Maura has never traveled this far into borderline intimate territory.

"It looks like dessert is about to happen again in a different form."

Tundie's risqué comment is unheard as Maura and Jane are once again in their own little world, a world without anyone or anything except shallow breathing, clenched jaws, and averted eyes. The tension rebounds bigtime in Rizzoli's leg and elsewhere.

The doctor finds it odd and more than a little intoxicating that the detective has yet to push her hand away. Isles is now on the edge of her own seat as each of them dares the other to cross the line and press higher.

"Oh, for God's sake…"

Watching the spectacle under the table unfold before her, Tundie decides to join in and force the outcome. She grasps Jane's other thigh and gives it a playful slap. She snickers as Jane seizes up and an aghast Maura draws back her hand.

"Tundie… that's not funny."

"From my vantage point, it's bloody hysterical."

Jane bolts up from her chair, nearly tripping over herself and the table.

"I… uh, need to use the ladies room, excuse me."

Rizzoli throws down her napkin and gallops off without looking at either woman. Isles shakes her head in disgust as Rosendahl swallows the last of her champagne with a wide grin.

"Remember who taught you that little manual maneuver under the table, Mauz."

"Jane was not ready for that."

"Seems like she was more than ready for that and then some."

"She's confused."

"If she were a man, this whole table would've been tilted by her erection."

"She is my straight best friend and colleague!"

"And I'm a space alien Santa Claus with six dicks – take the blinders off, Maura, and the kid gloves while you're at it."

"You don't know the first thing about our relationship."

"I do know that this is not the Mauz I remember, you could have anyone in this room with the snap of your fingers, what happened?"

"Jane Rizzoli is not in the realm of casual conquest for me, this is serious."

"It must be because I feel like a voyeur watching the two of you since the moment she appeared – to have that level of emotional intimacy in a restaurant full of people, I can only imagine what it would be like if you two were alone in a bedroom."

Maura suddenly bursts into tears.

"We have been… but it has yet to be."

Tundie glances at the door to the ladies room and winks.

"Maybe it's about time you found out."

Maura dries her eyes and offers one final sob into her glass of water.

"I do not have sex in public restrooms… it's unseemly."

"If you don't, there are plenty of other women who will, especially with that beauty."

"Jane has to be the one to decide if she wants us to move beyond friendship – she needs to come to me, literally, before I imperil our working partnership."

Tundie leans in closer to her former classmate and nuzzles her cheek.

"Mauz, stop pining around for a little girl who is afraid of her own vagina… you could have a real woman in your bed tonight who already knows how to satisfy you."

Slightly tempted by the offer, Isles closes her eyes and sighs deeply. When she opens them, she spots Jane watching them from across the room. The look on her face speaks volumes as she runs out of the restaurant.

"Jane!"

Maura doesn't even acknowledge Tundie before she races out of the restaurant to catch up to the detective.

"Jane, wait…"

Rizzoli is already opening the door to her car.

"I need to head to the crime scene, Maura."

"Hold on, let me go with you."

"Never mind, it was a mistake to ask you for your help on your day off – go back to your… friend."

"Why are you so upset?"

"I'm not upset, I just never knew you shot a Benetton ad in your crotch."

Both women are momentarily stunned by Jane's words; Maura by the ugly low blow and Jane recognizing she spoke her thoughts out loud. The doctor tries to take the high road.

"Uh, would you care to clarify that statement, detective?"

"Jesus, Maura, you sleep with women, too?"

Jane is more than happy to remain in the ditch she continues to dig for herself.

"I mean, screwing everything that moves, is that some kind of Euro trash rite of passage thing that I don't understand?"

"Okay… I will try to approach this based on the fact that you were raised in a very conservative, religious, working-class environment whereas I was surrounded by art and science and intellect."

"So, what you're saying is that I was raised by wolves and you're surrounded by fuck buddies… or coitus comrades or whatever fancy French fuck word you justify it with."

"I base my coupling on the person, not the genitalia."

"I know you're not a nun but I didn't know you're a goddamn nympho!"

"That's inaccurate and… harsh… Jane."

"Do you want me to call you a whore instead?"

An angry and wounded Isles steps away in silence as Rizzoli guns the engine.

"Whatever I find out at the scene will be in my report tomorrow – enjoy your night, doctor!"

With that, the tires squeal as Jane speeds off down the street. For a moment, Maura is gobsmacked until she prompts herself to start walking. She senses a vehicle stop and then reverse its course. It is now moving beside her but does not look. The sound of a widow rolling down is heard.

"Wait, Maura… I'm sorry… I'm sorry for being rude – lunch was just weird – I blame it on the frog leg."

Isles finally turns around and faces Rizzoli.

"I will apologize for Tundie's inappropriateness but I will NOT apologize for how I live my life – good day, detective, I look forward to your report in the morning!"

Maura hurries along and ducks behind a doorway until the car drives off again. A long-awaited epiphany suddenly erupts in her brain. Jane is jealous – jealous of Tundie, jealous of every other lover on her list! It's a soothing balm for the caustic comments as she knows it's only a matter of time before the same epiphany spurs Jane into action.

The ME comforts herself with this knowledge and does not return to lunch nor does she attend the charity event that evening. Instead, she spends the night at home alone with a cup of hot tea, Korsak's notes on the DJ killings, and the latest edition of _Fungus Monthly_.

"Dr. Isles… Dr. Isles?"

Maura immediately shuts off the memory of lunch with Tundie, aka the turning point with Jane, and looks up from her chart notes to see a curious medical assistant.

"There's a patient in exam room 8 complaining of chest pains, doctor."

"Isn't it after hours?"

"The manager already closed up but this patient is very insistent."

"Okay… prepare the leads for the ECG – patient's name?"

"Misty Meanor."

Maura is too busy studying the chart to put two and two together. Without glancing up, she closes the exam room door behind her.

"Hello, Ms. Meanor, I'm Dr. Isles… I understand you're experiencing some pain in your chest?"

"My heart is broken without you, Maura."

"Jane!"


	16. Chapter 16

Part 16 – More Than One

Stunned by the presence of Jane Rizzoli in the flesh before her, Maura Isles takes a step back, slightly dazed and more than a little confused.

"Jane… I… where is, where is Ms. Meanor? – she was having chest pains."

Jane jumps down off the exam table and carefully moves toward her.

"Maura, honey – 'Misty Meanor'… misdemeanor, I had to give the front desk a name."

"Oh."

"I was trying to be cute."

"I see."

"And, apparently, I'm a huge success."

"What are you doing here?"

The detective isn't quite sure how to take the blank stare and the monotone voice of the doctor.

"Um, I brought your book…"

She holds up the medical encyclopedia flagged with Isles' personal notes and gently sets it down on the counter.

"I know how important it is to you."

"You came all this way to bring me my book?"

Rizzoli is growing exasperated by the lack of welcome.

"I came all this way to see you – and bring you your book."

"Thank you."

"You know, I didn't want it to get lost in the mail… I'd never hear the end of it."

"What was that last part?"

"Wow, this is going great – listen, I know I said I would give you your space and I tried so hard to respect that and I know I'm being selfish with this being your first day on the job and all…"

Jane bows her head and lowers her voice.

"I shouldn't have surprised you like this but, but – for the love of tits and Christ, Maura – I miss you and I love you so much and I wanted you to know that in person, not over a stupid phone call."

"Ten."

"What?"

"Ten… the number of times you said 'I' just now."

Jane snatches her jacket of the exam table and rushes for the door.

"Okay, this was a really bad idea – I can take the hint."

"Stop!"

The doctor grabs the detective's arm and pulls her away from the door.

"Please wait… I'll be right back."

Isles ducks out of the exam room and causally walks over to the medical assistant in the front office.

"Cindy, is everyone gone for the evening?"

"Yes, Dr. Isles, the manager locked up before she left – Ms. Meanor is the last patient."

"Who?"

"The patient you're with?"

"Ah, yes…"

"Are you ready for the ECG?"

"No, the patient does not require one – her ego was compressing her intercostals."

"Sorry?"

"Never mind, you can go home now."

"But…"

"I can deal with the patient on my own, we won't be long."

"But protocol..."

"Security is outside at their post, yes?"

"Yes, but…"

"I know I'm new here, Cindy, but I know what I'm doing… go home, Cindy, thanks for all of your help today, Cindy… Cindy, you need to leave now, Cindy!"

"Uh, goodnight, Dr. Isles."

"Goodnight, Cindy."

With that, the medical assistant hurries out the main entrance. Now alone in the office, Maura locks the hall door leading to the exam rooms and returns to the one with Jane waiting anxiously inside.

"Is everything okay, Maura?"

"It will be."

The doctor proceeds to remove her crisp, white coat and washes her hands in the sink.

"Tell me about the pain in your chest…"

The nervousness Rizzoli had about Isles' initial reaction eases into a different kind of tension. She ambles closer to her.

"Well… it started about a month ago…"

Jane nuzzles the back of Maura's neck.

"Actually, when I think about it, more like a year ago… but it recently intensified."

"Did it, now?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm having a hard time catching my breath."

Maura feels the zipper on her dress being slowly lowered.

"What type of pain is it… dull… sharp?"

Jane drops the dress to the floor and rubs up against her.

"It's definitely sharp… throbbing… and constant."

Maura's bra is now unhooked and tossed to the side. The doctor arches against the detective, bringing her breasts into full bloom.

"And where… exactly… is this pain located?"

"Right… in… the middle… of my chest."

Rizzoli targets the location with her fingers on Isles' sternum and trails them up and down the length of it.

"Hmm, I see."

"But it occasionally radiates to my ass."

"Hahaha!"

Maura can't help but snicker and shakes her head. Jane hugs her even tighter.

"God, I miss hearing your laugh."

Maura stifles the rest of her chuckles behind a faint smile because she does not want to blunt the erotic mood with comedic relief.

"Tell me… what else do you miss, Jane?"

Jane softly bites the top of Maura shoulder causing her to gasp.

"All of it... all of you."

"Ahh… be more… specific."

"I miss… your freckles…"

The detective firmly traces the tip of her tongue along the back of the doctor's neck.

"Especially this cluster… right… here."

"Ooh."

"When linked together… it forms… the constellation Lyra."

"It's funny you should say that because I was always under the impression it was more like Piscis Austrinus."

"Would you… shut… up… please?"

"Heh, how's that pain in your chest now?"

"Quickly moving southward."

"I bet – is the tightness still there?"

"Yes, no matter what, the tightness lingers."

"Maybe… maybe massaging the area… would help."

"That's an idea."

Jane clutches both of Maura's breasts and lightly begins to knead them.

"Like this?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Mmm."

"Don't be afraid to apply more pressure…"

Rizzoli's left hand now travels down to Isles' core and presses through the panties. Maura reluctantly breaks the hold and picks up a dispenser from the counter top.

"Hold out your hands, Jane."

"You're so wet, you don't need any lube."

"It's hand sanitizer."

"Oh."

Maura thoroughly spritzes both of their hands and rubs them together. Jane growls in her ear.

"That feels so nice."

"We had a case of impetigo in the office earlier, can't be too careful."

Rizzoli takes one long step back.

"You what… sorry, what?"

"Don't worry, we washed everything down, this is only out of an abundance of caution."

"How… how do you expect me to get all up in that after you told me THERE WAS EBOLA IN HERE."

"Oh, Jane, you're confusing your gram-positive bacteria with a virus again."

Rizzoli adopts a mocking Valley Girl type tone.

"Omigawd, you'resototallyright, I'msototallywrong, howcouldItotallyforgetthat, sooooooonotrad."

"If there was a potential for any kind of hemorrhagic…"

Jane closes her eyes and covers her ears."

"LalalalalalalalalaLAAA."

"Oh, that is very attractive, it makes me want to do you even more!"

Jane ceases her childish display and turns serious.

"I'm sorry, Maura, it's just everything in here reminds me of illness and death."

"So, I remind you of illness and death?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all."

"You have no problem with the morgue back in Boston."

"That's your morgue, our morgue… I don't know this place."

Isles turns super serious now.

"Your gun… especially after what you did… reminds me of suffering and destruction on a daily basis.

Jane winces at the words and turns away.

"I'm so sorry."

Maura steps closer and reestablishes eye contact with her subject.

"But your gun is also a tool that can be used for the greater good in the right hands…"

Maura takes Jane's hands in hers and gently kisses them.

"These hands."

It's Jane's turn to gasp.

"Um, maybe we should, uh, you know, head back to your hotel and do this?"

"I can't wait that long, can you?"

Now completely naked except for her heels, Maura continues to back Jane into a corner.

"Please disrobe and lie down on the exam table for me, Ms. Meanor."

"But, but… you've been on your feet all day."

Maura's impish grin has been replaced by a look of pure hunger. She paws at Jane's belt and snaps the buttons open on her shirt.

"Not for much longer…"

"Are you sure you don't want to have dinner, first? – it will give us a chance to talk."

The baffled doctor pauses and studies the detective with a look of concern.

"I am more than ready to eat but did you honestly come all the way out here to talk?"

"And deliver your book!"

"So, tell me, Jane – why are you really delaying?"

"I… I went to this bar back home and had a few drinks…"

"I could tell you've been drinking again, I could taste it on your breath."

"I had a few drinks on the plane to calm my nerves, you know how much I hate to fly."

"And be out of control…"

"Just like you."

"Touché."

"Maura, I want you to know that I only lose my self control – completely – with you."

"I know."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Before Jane can say another word, Maura's lips are covering hers. The two kiss and kiss and kiss again. The doctor breaks it off and steps back with a lilting laugh.

"But I suppose we could go back to my hotel and finish this – they have a wonderful little patio bistro in case..."

Rizzoli grabs Isles with both hands, hoists her up around her hips, and swallows the rest of the words right out of her mouth. Maura wraps her arms around Jane's upper body and returns every move with fervor. They remain in that position for a few moments until the need for air separates them.

"Uhh… Jane… you took care of me… in the parking lot at the memorial… now it's my turn… to take care of you."

"Yes, yes, a hundred thousand times yes, please – um, hold on a sec…"

Freeing one arm from around Maura's waist, Jane grabs the hand sanitizer off the counter, unscrews the top, and dumps the contents all over the exam table. Isles rolls her eyes with a half smile as Rizzoli chucks the bottle away. It hits the floor with a hollow thunk while both of their bodies hit the paper lining with loud crunch.

At first, Jane tries to dominate as usual but Maura only allows it briefly, enough to get her to the verge. It doesn't take long. Isles then expertly flips Rizzoli on her back, removes her remaining clothes, and deliberately slows the tempo down. She can't help but check how the abdominal wounds are healing. Jane rasps raggedly.

"Honey… I know we're playing doctor here… but please don't play real doctor here."

"Sorry, force of habit…"

"There are… uhh… other areas… in need… of your attention."

Isles circles Rizzoli's navel with the tip of her tongue and then drags it down to the top of her mound.

"Mmm, I am well aware of them."

Maura inhales deeply and puts each and every one of her skills to use. The next hour is a sweet, sweaty, succulent sexual smorgasbord used to soothe and satisfy all of Jane. She succeeds, over and over again. And, for the first time since the shooting, Jane is unafraid.

Now a giant blob of goo whose skeleton has been ripped out from inside – her muscles dissolving and reforming into gelatin – Rizzoli releases a single tear. There is so much she wants to say and do to the woman on top of her but she barely has enough strength to keep her eyes open and her lungs filled with air.

Mindful of her lover's condition, the doctor helps herself out by spreading her own thighs and holding firm the detective's left wrist as she guides and coaxes the digits deep inside of her. Jane watches her fingers sink in and out of her girlfriend's center, pulling down the evidence of Maura's arousal with each stroke.

Isles' vocal intensity is increasing along with her pulse. The pace races, faster and faster. Her head tilts back, her jaw clenches, and the blushing around her décolletage darkens. Rizzoli can only stare in hushed awe.

With her one arm in back of her as support, Maura still holds on to Jane's wrist. She suddenly throws her legs wide open like a butterfly about to take flight. She releases the hand and slides herself up along the torso beneath her. Maura whimpers through gritted teeth.

"Uhhhhh… I'm so sorry, Jane… ummmmm… I said I could wait until you were ready… that I wouldn't push… until you felt comfortable…"

Rizzoli can only blink.

"But I need it… I need your mouth on me… your tongue in me… right now!"

The detective seizes up. The doctor tries to assuage her fear.

"I will give you instructions… cold and clinical… hot and crude… whatever works best for you…"

Rizzoli's lips remain sealed. Isles implores again.

"Jane, please!"

"I kissed Michelle Hall."

Maura scuttles backwards as if she were bitten by a rattlesnake. The silence in the air is crushing. Jane reaches for her but is rejected.

"Maura..."

"Don't!"

Isles jumps down from the table and quickly gets dressed as Rizzoli hides her face and stammers. Maura holds up her hand as she attempts to form her own words.

"Kissed… one kiss?"

Jane looks to the floor and immediately rubs her arms to rid herself of the nervousness.

"Ehhhm… there… there might have been… more than one."

"How many more?"

"I… uhhh… wasn't keeping count."

"Ohhh!"

Maura bites her lips and looks to the ceiling to keep from crying. She takes a shallow breath.

"Was… was there more… than kissing?"

"Michelle… she caught me off guard… she followed me into the bar's bathroom… we had, we had way too much to drink – I know that's a lousy excuse…"

"WAS… THERE… MORE… THAN… KISSING?"

Jane jumps down from the table and rushes over to Maura.

"I STOPPED MYSELF, I STOPPED MYSELF IN TIME, THE CLOTHES NEVER CAME OFF, I SWEAR IT ON A STACK OF BIBLES."

Maura pulls away and paces the floor.

"Michelle… Hall… Officer… Hall… the woman… who is married…"

Her voice shoots up an octave and cracks.

"TO A WIFE… WHO IS ABOUT…TO GIVE BIRTH – JANE, HOW COULD YOU?"

"SHE CAME ON TO ME, SHE CAME ON TO ME, THERE HAS ALWAYS BEEN THIS WEIRD COMPETITVE VIBE BETWEEN US, I NEVER SAW IT COMING."

"Then WHY didn't you TRY to STOP her?"

"I DID… eventually."

Maura grabs a tissue and wipes her face. She sniffles.

"I've watched you fight off a 300-pound man without so much as batting an eyelash – do you honestly expect me to believe you couldn't have stopped her sooner?"

Jane searches her brain but is unable to come up with a reasonable response. Maura answers for her.

"You didn't want it to stop, did you – DID YOU?"

"What do you want me to say, Maura? – her hand was like an iron claw, it had my crotch in a vice grip and she was churning the hell out of it – you're a doctor, you of all people should understand the physical reaction to that!"

"BE HONEST, JANE."

"FINE, YOU WANT HONESTY?"

Jane gets right in Maura's face.

"MICHELLE WAS ON HER KNEES… SHE MADE ME WET… AND OPEN… AND I WANTED TO COME ALL OVER HER."

Isles is about to pass out as Rizzoli continues.

"BUT I DIDN'T… I STOPPED MYSELF… BECAUSE ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT… WAS YOU… MICHELLE WAS A CONVENIENT PIECE OF ASS WHO HAPPENED TO BE IN THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE COMPLETELY WRONG TIME…"

The doctor is full on crying now as the detective stalks the floor.

"ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT WAS YOU, YOU – YOU'RE HERE, SHE WAS THERE, YOU'RE HERE – YOU ARE HERE, MAURA, NOT THERE, YOU'RE HERE…"

Before she can utter another syllable, Maura grabs the medical encyclopedia, spins around, and hurls it directly at Jane. The detective doesn't have time to duck as it smacks her directly on the nose. It bounces off causing a trickle of blood from her nostril.

Both women are stunned by Isles' reaction. Rizzoli, in typical form, makes light of the situation.

"Congrats on officially making the BPD softball team."

The doctor is absolutely horrified by what she did. She covers her mouth while hyperventilating. Jane instinctively tries to console her with an embrace.

"It's okay, honey, it's okay – deep breaths, c'mon, take a deep breath for me."

Maura squeaks between sobs.

"I am not a violent person…"

"I know that."

"I could have really injured you."

"But you didn't, I'm all right, just a little blood."

Isles finally returns the hug and then immediately snaps into professional mode. She checks Rizzoli's nasal area and staunches the bleeding with a rolled up piece of gauze.

"Jane… I'm so sorry!"

"I'm going to be fine – and I'm pretty sure you have an ice pack around here… one that isn't contaminated with… stuff."

"I can't believe I hurt you."

"And I am so sorry that I hurt you with what I did… you are the last person on this planet I ever wanted to hurt, Maura."

"You make me… you make me feel things…"

"Trust me, that's not a bad thing."

"I don't know how to feel things like this."

"You're a quick learner."

Maura takes a seat on the swivel stool and reflects for a moment.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"You… were freaked out by doing it in here with the germs… but didn't have a problem with the bathroom of a dive bar?"

"Oh, here we go."

The doctor closes her eyes and massages her temples as the detective gets dressed.

"Logic… logic… logic."

"Are you trying to summon the ghost of Aristotle?"

Isles' eyes fly open in surprise. Rizzoli proudly shrugs her shoulders.

"See, good looking and not so dumb."

"Except when it comes to the wives of pregnant women."

"Yeeouch!"

"And I consider Plato to be the true father of logic."

"You would."

"I wrote a thesis on it!"

Jane holds her forehead and speaks like she has a bad cold.

"This… this is more painful than the actual bloody nose!"

Maura accusatorily points at her agitator.

"Luule warned me this would happen!"

"Who the hell is Luule? – what the hell is Luule?"

"My Estonian escort luncheon companion, wine connoisseur, and erotic confidant."

"Your what?"

"Don't make me explain because you'll end up confusing her with the lazy eye guy who tried to blackmail me but was actually hired by my mother to spy on me so I wouldn't do anything drastic like overdose or slash my wrists but I know she did it out of love and Billy and the college football players helped me deal with him when I wasn't dancing the samba with Shoky…"

"WWWHHHAAAATTT?"

"Jane… you like pussy!"

The detective chokes on her own tongue. The doctor drones on.

"You've waited a long time for it and it's only normal for you to want to explore your new found sexuality."

"I… I…"

"It's like opening up Pandora's box."

"I don't know any Pandora and I've never touched her box!"

"If you truly feel the need to be with Officer Hall, I cannot stop you."

"Are you telling me to sleep with Michelle?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all – I'm saying I understand your curiosity – understanding something isn't the same as liking it or condoning it!"

"You are confusing THE FUCK out of me right now, Maura!"

"Would you like me to call Luule and book us a session? – I could observe or participate, it's your choice…"

"Did you… did you just offer me A THREE-WAY?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable with, Jane, I don't want to lose you!"

"NO, NO, NONONO, I DON'T WANT ANY OF THAT, I DON'T WANT LUULE OR MICHELLE OR ANYONE ELSE, I ONLY WANT YOU."

"And I only want you… but I cannot baby sit your clitoris."

"No one is asking you to."

"I am here and I am going to stay here until I finish the job I committed to."

"I know that and I adore that about you."

"Earlier today, before you arrived, I had to tell a patient who spoke broken English that he would become a cripple if he didn't give up the three jobs he works just to put food on his family's table… I… AM… EXHAUSTED – and this is only my first day."

"Aw, babe…"

Rizzoli pulls Isles into another hug.

"You scare me, Jane."

"I don't mean to, Maura."

"I know but every time a car backfires or a door slams, I flash back to that day – you were dying, Jane – I had one finger on your ascending colon to keep it from eviscerating…"

Rizzoli goes to say something but is rendered mute with one withering glance.

"So help me, detective, if you make one wisecrack about anal sex."

Jane bites her lips and timidly shakes her head 'no.'

"I had my other finger on your ileocolic artery to keep you from bleeding out – when we arrived at the emergency department…"

Maura starts to tear up again.

"The general surgeon whom I know from the country club asked me… asked me if… you were an organ donor – and… I… nearly… lost it!"

Maura is now losing it again.

"I told him that I was in love with you and that you were more than my friend and coworker and I begged… begged… begged him to save you."

Jane is about to lose it as well.

"I'm so sorry, baby."

"Then… I had to go outside… and see the faces of your parents and Frost and Korsak and I honestly didn't know if you were going to make it… or if Frankie was going to make it… and I couldn't… I couldn't speak."

Isles is trembling uncontrollably. Rizzoli kneels before her and throws her arms around her legs as she rests her head on her thigh. The doctor strokes the long, dark curls before her as the detective snuggles her lap.

"Maura… I can't take back what I did that day nor do I really want to because it saved Frankie."

"I realize that."

"And I can't undo what went on with Michelle but I can promise you that I will do whatever it takes to make it right between us… anything!"

Rizzoli looks up into the eyes of Isles and the two reflect every possible emotion between them. Maura bends down and kisses the top of Jane's head.

"Do you understand why it is extremely difficult for me to be around you right now?"

"I'm starting to, yes."

"Do you understand that I have a job to do and I cannot be preoccupied with whether or not you are fornicating with some harlot in a bar?"

"I totally get that."

"Do you understand that in order for our relationship to progress, I need you to make love to me in every way that I make love to you?"

"I'm working on it… got the DVD and everything."

"Do you understand that you cannot blunt whatever is buried inside of you with alcohol?"

The detective hesitates and stands up.

"Jane?"

"Maura – you are the first woman I have been physically and emotionally intimate with, but you're not the first girl I kissed… she died."

The doctor jumps up and hugs her.

"Oh, Jane… why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I'm not ready to talk about… yet… okay?"

"Okay…"

Maura softly kisses Jane on the cheek.

"You know I'll listen when you're ready."

Jane returns the kiss.

"Thank you."

"Do you understand how completely and madly in love with you I am?"

"I know."

Isles waits for Rizzoli to say the same. Jane gets a playful look in her eye and pinches Maura on the rear.

"Do you know how much you drive me batshit crazy?"

"Do I?"

Maura seductively rubs up against her. Jane licks the side of her neck.

"Yeah, you sure as hell do."

The two kiss. Jane breaks away.

"Oh, and I'm deeply and totally in love with you, too."

"That's nice!"

The two resume kissing. Maura breaks away this time.

"Do you want to go back to my hotel now?"

"You have no idea how much I want to go back to your hotel right now… but if I go there, I assure you, I will never leave."

"And I wouldn't want you to leave."

"See, I need to return to Boston because we have a case to work on..."

The doctor cocks an eyebrow. The detective explains.

"Ourselves."

Maura smiles in agreement as Jane heads for the door. Isles draws the blinds open on the window.

"May I drive you to the airport at least?"

She points out the Maserati in the parking lot. Rizzoli nearly falls over and utters indistinct guttural noises. She finally finds her words.

"Can I drive, pleasepleaseplease?"

"Of course."

"To LAX?"


	17. Chapter 17

Part 17 – Gate B14

Shuffling off of the redeye flight from LAX, Jane Rizzoli makes her way through the terminal at Logan and plops herself down on an uncomfortable wooden chair in the food court. She dials her brother.

"Hey, Frankie."

"Where the hell are you? – I got a call that your car was towed away in Belmont."

"Shit, it must be street cleaning day by that bar."

"Are you okay?"

"Kinda… could you come pick me up, please?"

"Let me repeat my first question… where the hell are you?"

"Logan… inside the main food court."

"Why are you there and what was your car doing in Belmont?"

"Are you a cop, Frankie?"

"Don't give up your day job for the comedy clubs, Sis… oh, wait, you don't have a day job right now."

"Would you knock it off? - I just came back from seeing Maura."

"Oooh… so are your ears her new favorite handlebars?"

"FRANKIE."

"I guess not because why are you back here already? – didn't you do what Mona showed you on the DVD?"

"AreyougoingtoFUCKINGPICKMEUPORDOICALLAFUCKINGCAB?"

Everyone around the food court overhears Jane, even with the typical airport din. An older couple gives her the glare of 'watch your rudeness.' She slinks down in her seat.

"Sorry… could you please come and get me, Frankie, please?"

"I'll be there in 20."

"Thank you."

Rizzoli sighs and dials Isles back in San Diego.

"Hey, Maura…"

"How was your flight?"

"Not as fun as the ride to the airport in that dream car of yours."

"I hope you are drinking extra amounts of water – you're still in recovery and air travel dehydrates you."

"I'm thrilled you still care."

"Of course I care, Jane, I never stopped caring despite your… transgression – how is your proboscis by the way?"

"You wanna do sex talk here?"

"Your nose, Jane."

"Oh, right, it's okay - I finally resemble my Uncle Sal, thanks to you."

The two chuckle for a moment before turning serious again. Maura's voice lowers.

"You understand we will need to have more of an in depth discussion than we did last night."

"I do."

"Not now and not over the phone."

"I know."

"Jane, I love you."

"I love you, too, Maura, so much… and I miss you already."

"I miss you, too… even though we only saw each other hours ago."

"We did more than see each other."

"Sounds like my treatment was beneficial, Ms. Meanor."

"It certainly was, Dr. Isles… except for my swollen schnoz."

"Good."

"Next time could you swat me with a rolled up newspaper instead of a medical encyclopedia?"

"There better not be a next time or it will be far worse than a medical encyclopedia, I promise you that."

"Heh… what are you doing now?"

"I am about to lavage a live caterpillar out of my patient's ear canal – it's called working, Jane… you should try it."

"Bye!"

Rizzoli smiles to herself and then glowers at the multiple bottles of overpriced water in the display case. She ambles up to the counter and orders a large, black coffee instead, along with a bacon and egg breakfast bagel. She settles down in an even more uncomfortable booth closer to the women's restroom.

As she stuffs the hot, soggy grease bomb inside her mouth, Rizzoli can't help but think back to the last time she had bacon with her girlfriend five days before the shooting.

With the sunlight barely peeking through Maura's bedroom windows, Jane is aroused from slumber by a warm, wet tongue acting as an alarm clock between her legs.

"Mmmmm, so much better than the morning traffic report…"

Now that she knows the detective is fully awake, the doctor intensifies her rhythmic buzzing until she finishes.

"Good morning, Jane."

"Uhh, yes it is."

Maura casually climbs her favorite Italian tree and lands next to her. She snuggles her neck and swirls her tongue around Jane's outer ear. Rizzoli giggles as an undeterred Isles doesn't let up.

"My God, woman, aren't there enough holes for you to explore?"

"Never, besides, I know how much you love earplay."

"You know me too well, Maura."

"Almost."

"Is that exactly hygienic after where you previously were?"

"Nothing we do is hygienic, Jane, that's why there is something called soap and water."

"Oh, right, so those tiny soaps in the shapes of seashells in your bathroom aren't for decoration?"

"You can use any soap you want... except those."

The doctor delivers a sweet kiss to the detective's forehead and bounds out of bed. Jane admires the view as Maura slowly wraps herself in her robe.

"What would you like for breakfast?"

"Whatever you feel like is fine by me."

Isles' shoots Rizzoli a sly side eye and licks her lips.

"Mmm, I already had my breakfast."

She suddenly furrows her brow and smacks her lips with concern.

"Later we need to discuss why you should reduce your alkaloids."

Jane hides her head under a pillow and groans.

"I DO NOT EVEN WANT TO KNOW HOW YOU KNOW THAT."

Maura laughs, ducks inside the bathroom and calls back a few moments later.

"Do you want pepper bacon, Canadian bacon, or Fake-con?"

"Fake-con?"

"Veggie-based faux bacon."

"Yum… no… pepper bacon is perfect – and waffles, please."

Rizzoli yawns, stretches, and grins as she decides whether or not she wants to leave the comfort of Isles' bed.

"Oh, and do you have any of that high-end maple syrup left?

Maura now returns from the bathroom and pauses in the door frame.

"You mean the artisan syrup from Quebec?"

"Yeah, that was so good on the pancakes last… AAAHHH… AAAHHH."

"WHAT?"

"SPIDER, SPIDER, ON THE WALL NEXT TO YOU, AAAHHH."

"Are you being deliberately comical? – the big, bad Jane Rizzoli is afraid of a little spider?"

"I hate bugs as much as snakes!"

"Technically, a spider is an arachnid… and if you really want to be accurate, the Phylum Arthropoda… and "arthro" is Greek for joint."

"How do I get you to stop talking and start killing?"

"You could kiss me."

"I could do that… AFTER YOU GET RID OF THAT MONSTER."

Maura rolls her eyes and calmly catches the spider in her hand. She carries it over to the window but not before pretending to throw it at a horrified Jane.

"STOP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Relax, it's not a Latrodectus variolus."

"Oh, well, I feel so much better now…"

"It's not venomous."

The doctor opens the window and tosses it outside. The detective is still uneasy.

"Close the window, quick!"

Maura does and then struts back to the bed to straddle Jane.

"I'm ready for that kiss, now."

"Ick, you got spider germs on you."

Isles ignores Rizzoli, sheds her robe and playfully licks her fingers.

"All gone."

"OH, GROSS… why didn't you just smash it in the first place?"

The doctor immediately stiffens up and adopts a more formal tone to her voice.

"And why exactly would I do that?"

"Because it was weird looking."

"That is so the wrong answer, Jane."

"Cuuuuuz, it has eight legs?"

"No, you do not kill something simply because you do not like it or it is weird or different or scary."

"Those seem like perfectly good reasons to me."

"And soon you are rounding up the Jews and the gays and the disabled…"

"Sorry, I didn't realize spiders were a marginalized class."

"Tell me, Jane, who is next? – tall people, left-handed people, people with freckles? One grain of sand soon turns into a desert."

The detective sighs heavily into her pillow.

"How in the hell did we get from fake bacon to Nazis… in under three minutes?"

Maura perches herself at the foot of the bed and folds her arms.

"Would you like to change the subject?"

"Affirmative! - anything is better than this Hebrew nightmare gabfest."

"Okay... do you ever think you could be physically intimate with me without the assistance of inebriation?"

"Uhhh... could you tell me more about spiders?"

The doctor is visibly upset.

"Is having sex with me really that horrifying to you?"

Rizzoli immediately pulls Isles back into her arms.

"No, no, babe, it's not you - it's just always been that way for me, ever since the first time... I had to get blitzed by Jim Beam in order to get banged by Joey DiMarco."

Maura studies Jane's face and gently pushes a stray strand of black hair away from her eyes.

"Why?"

"I dunno, it's just easier I suppose."

"Why is it easier?"

"Would you please stop? - the damn doctor in you is always trying to find a cure for everything."

"I am only curious about the root of the cause."

"Leave my roots alone, Maura - they'll be gray enough by the end of this conversation."

The two spoon in silence for another moment. Isles slowly shifts herself on top of Rizzoli and softly kisses her shoulder.

"Remember how I made you feel a few minutes ago?"

"Pre spider?"

"Before that..."

"I seem to recall an offer of bacon being made."

"Earlier, when I... woke you up."

"Oh, yeah - and I'm wondering how I can rewind these last few minutes to get back there?"

Maura seductively trails her tongue down the middle of Jane's chest and then suddenly veers off onto a nipple. To the delight of her captive, she remains there for quite some time. Unfortunately, the detective makes the mistake of speaking.

"Heh, starting to forget the Nazis now."

The doctor detaches herself and looks up.

"Then, maybe you could answer a simple question for me."

"Why did I open my mouth?"

"Judging from your physical response to my oral stimulation, you are enjoying yourself - yes?"

"I was..."

"So tell me, Jane, how is this dirty? - how is this filthy? - how is this evil?"

"Those were three questions."

"Why is it so wrong to celebrate life? - how is it worse to create life than it is to end life?"

"Are you trying to tell me you're pregnant?"

"The two of us being intimate, despite what others say, is normal - more normal than watching the human body become excoriated, perforated, mutilated, or whatever else we have to witness daily on our jobs."

"I whole-heartedly concur, Dr. Isles... now, could you please go back to nipping my nips?

Instead of following the request, Maura slowly slips two fingers inside of Jane. Rizzoli gasps as Isles smiles.

"See, isn't it amazing what happens when your nerves aren't dulled by manufactured depressants like alcohol?"

"Uh-huuuh."

"Feel the sensation."

"I hate you for making me feel so vulnerable."

"And I hate you for making you feel so alive."

The doctor brings the detective to the brink and then meticulously finishes her off. Jane grins and cuddles.

"Mmm, I feel like fire and brimstone all over - maybe we should call in sick."

"Hell, by the way, is a concept used to scare people into obedience and conformity."

"And maybe you need a little obedience and conformity in order to prevent complete chaos."

"What type of chaos, Jane? - homoclinic chaos, hyperbolic resonance, or parabolic resonance?"

"OH MY GOD, MAURA, ARE YOU FOR REAL?"

"Mea culpa, I forgot to yell out your name a few more times before launching into an intellectual discourse."

"Is 'Manifest Destiny' and 'Zoroastrianism' eventually going to make their way into our super sexy morning talk, too?"

"No, but I would like to talk about your Catholicism."

"Oh, here we go..."

"I really don't understand how you could still support a church that turned a blind eye to pedophilia, actively supports misogyny, has more gluttonous wealth in its art collection than most third world countries combined, and makes you ashamed of who you are and who you love."

"It's trying to fix all that with the new PR Papa."

"It will take more than a few supportive sentences to fix all that, Jane."

"And almighty science solves everything, right?"

"Not everything but a lot."

"Have a little faith, babe, just a little."

"I have faith in you."

"Awwwww."

"Did you know that less than 500 meters from The Vatican is pure poverty and squalor?"

"ARRRGH - you're in America, speak in miles!"

"I know you know how to calculate meters to miles, detective, you got into BCU as well - remember, remember, remember?"

"It's so much easier to ask a nerd... hey, nerd, how many miles is that?"

"0.310686, but you're missing the overall point, here let me demonstrate..."

Isles effortlessly has Rizzoli in a choke hold with each one of her fingers expertly placed around her neck.

"Do you believe it is better for one person to teach another person how to pleasure the human body with their simple touch or is it more appropriate to crush the trachea and rupture key vessels with a few digital maneuvers which ultimately results in the person tasting their own blood as they drown in it while unsuccessfully trying to scream out in agony before they die?"

Jane is wide-eyed and answerless as Maura releases her pretend grip and smirks.

"Shall I make the breakfast now, darling?"

"You frighten me and turn me on more than any other thing in this entire universe."

"At last, I have succeeded."

"And I have never had to work so friggin' hard for bacon in my entire life."

"Instead of bacon, I think I will make cucumber slices with low fat cream cheese and pomegranate seeds instead - it's better for you."

The detective looks like she was struck in the stomach with a harpoon. The doctor laughs and sashays out of the bed.

"Do not worry, I will bring the bacon as well."

"And don't forget the waffles... please!"

Several minutes later, Maura returns with a tray containing all of the desired dishes, along with coffee and tea. A pensive look traps her face.

"Jane, I was thinking..."

"Can I please have one bite, just one little bite, first?"

Maura ignores her and continues on.

"We should have International Naked Day once a year to demystify the human body."

"Um, I would rather double up on Columbus Day."

"No, I'm serious!"

"Is this a European thing? - because this sounds an awful lot like a European thing..."

"Everyone going in public for an entire day without clothes would acclimate people to their own skin instead of fetishizing it to the point of being pathological."

Rizzoli stuffs her mouth with bacon and chews loudly.

"Only you would come up with naked day, Maura."

In her mind, Jane sees her brothers wildly clapping and cheering and chanting: NAKED DAY, NAKED DAY, NAKED DAY. She shakes her head and scoffs.

"No, no, not a good idea at all."

"So, we should have Decapitate Someone With A Sharpened Shoehorn Day instead?"

"I believe they already celebrate that in Yemen."

"It's purpose is to educate people, Jane."

"Yeah, sure, I can see all the guys getting something else out of it that starts with an 'e'..."

"Only men?"

"Okay, women would get their lady bits in an uproar, too."

"Lady bits?"

"Heh, 'oyster bar' is too crude for you, Madame."

Maura clears her throat and gives Jane the squinty eye. The detective straightens up.

"I beg your pardon... mademoiselle!"

"Look, it is not an oyster bar, or lady bits, a vajay-jay, a hoo-ha, a woo, your little sister, or the sugar bowl - it's called a vagina and I want to hear you say it out loud!"

Rizzoli deliberately shoves an entire waffle into her mouth and mutters something unintelligible. Isles is relentless.

"Next, I want you to practice labia, then cervix, and perineum, and clitoris… I really, really want you to practice clitoris!"

Jane blinks and then offers a bite of her breakfast to Maura who smacks her lips and licks her fingers.

"Ooh, my, I do make savory waffles."

"How come you don't make those same yum yum noises when you're eating me?"

"Jealous of the maple syrup, Jane?"

"No... not really... but I don't think my junk should have to compete with toppings for griddle batter."

Maura releases an exasperated sigh and covers her eyes with her hand.

"Enough with the urban street urchin!"

"Is that a new sushi restaurant?"

"Jane, how many times have I asked you to please refrain from using the colloquialism 'junk' in reference to sexual organs..."

"Should I go back to the oyster bar now?"

"You are not a teenager and you are not a simpleton."

"Have you seen me after a couple of beers at Fenway?"

"Junk is an insult to me, my profession, and all of those unfortunate souls who cannot conceive for various reasons - women with severe endometriosis, men who have had their testicles blown off in battle - it disparages human evolution when you use such a base term to describe the seat of life."

"My head is about to explode... the wrong head... in the wrong way."

"This is actually quite therapeutic for us."

"Really?"

The doctor pushes away the breakfast tray and makes a beeline for her closet.

"Processing these thoughts into an open dialogue is a positive step."

"The only thing I want to process this morning is the suspect who's been cooling his heels in the cage for the last 24 hours."

"In order for us to move on to the next level, Jane, you have to be able to push past walls... not only with your fingers."

Rizzoli deftly avoids the glare of her tormentor by twirling the last piece of bacon like a baton. Isles continues on.

"Sometimes taking out one brick at a time does not yield the best results, that's when you need to take a sledgehammer to it."

"Is that what you call that harness contraption in your drawer?"

Maura pauses and purrs.

"So... you've been in my special drawer?"

"Once again, I am a DETECTIVE, that's what I do."

"And that's your justification for snooping?"

"Jesus, crack the whip already!"

"I could do that if you'd like... it's called a cat-o-nines tails."

"Men and women aren't enough for you - you need all that other stuff, too?"

"There is nothing wrong with role playing if it is mutually consented to."

"I think I need a drink or three before I can consent to what's inside that drawer - they look like a perverted version of my Nonna's fancy holiday utensils!"

"We could set the table with them this year if you'd like."

"Ooh, will your family look down their noses at me if I don't know my dessert clamp from my salad paddle?"

"And will your family automatically assume I am discussing baking when I talk about the joys of Pyrex?"

Jane casts a sideways glance and then snorts.

"I'm not looking for weirdness here, Maura, I'm only looking for someone who loves lasagne as much as I do."

"Then, you are looking for a cartoon cat."

"Hey."

The doctor realizes she has put the detective through enough this morning and offers up her dimpled grin as a peace offering.

"Good thing I make a mean vegan lasagne."

"I love your vegan lasagne... but it would taste a little better with some ground beef and ricotta, just sayin'."

"Duly noted."

"But breakfast was delicious, waking up to you was even more delicious, and everything else in between was wicked crackers!"

Isles smirks as Rizzoli pulls her into a kiss.

"Okay, we need to get to work."

"Agreed... we'll revisit my drawer another time."

The two kiss again and race each other to the shower. The memory of that day fades back into the present as the detective slumps in the airport food court, completely unaware of being watched by a typical family in the booth next to hers. Jane unwittingly speaks her thoughts out loud.

"Does she really expect me to strap that thing on?"

And then she answers herself.

"Well, I guess it's like strapping on my gun... haha."

She is suddenly aware of four pairs of eyes staring directly at her and tries to busy herself with her napkin. Too late. The female owner of the hazel pair calls out to her.

"You okay over there, lady?"

The detective catches an accent thicker than her own and nods.

"Yes, ma'am, thank you - jet lag."

Jane now realizes that adding those last two words left the door wide open instead of slamming it shut. The woman walks right in.

"Oh, where did you fly in from?"

"Uhhh, west coast."

"Seattle, Portland, San Fran?"

Jane is mentally kicking herself six ways to Sunday and scrambles to find a polite way to end further queries.

"Nope, none of the above - now if you'll excuse me, I need to call my bro..."

The husband suddenly chimes in.

"Hey, I know who you are - you're that Boston policewoman who saved the day!"

"Oh my God, Reggie, you're absolutely right, it's her - Officer Rizzuto or Righetti?"

"Detective Rizzoli."

"Right, right - you were all over the news, how are you doing?"

"Fine, ma'am, except for the sudden splitting headache."

Jane's attempt at curbing the conversation crashes and burns. The woman searches her purse for some pills.

"Huh, I thought I had some Advil in here - anyway, hi, I'm Kora with a K and this is my husband Reggie... Reggie, say hello."

"Hi, there."

"And these are our little troublemakers, Ethan six, and Ella four... say hi to the nice lady cop, kids."

The older child responds by picking his nose. The younger child talks to her doll instead. The mother tries again.

"She'll arrest you if you act up!"

Both children and Jane all have eyes widened with fear.

"Mommy's just kidding."

Reggie chimes in again.

"Sorta..."

Jane downs the rest of her coffee in one, long chug and starts to get up.

"I really need to get go..."

"So, are you glad to be back home again, Officer Rinaldi?"

"It's Dete... yeah... thrilled, nice to meet you all."

The husband gets up and pulls out his phone.

"Would you mind if we get a picture with a real-life hero?"

Jane's ego eagerly wants to say yes.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm camera ready with my nose and all."

She points to the swollen snout and demurely smiles. Both husband and wife protest emphatically.

"No, no, you look fantastic!"

"You got that in the line of duty, right?"

Rizzoli suddenly flashes back to shoving her tongue down Michelle Hall's throat and the subsequent medical encyclopedia hurl from Maura.

"Yeah... kinda."

"Such a badge of honor."

"Truly, now kids get in there next to the nice hero cop."

"Of Beantown..."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"Okay, everyone, on the count of three, smile... one, two - Ethan, I swear to God, if you pick your nose one more time, I'm going to have Officer Rigatoni handcuff you!"

Jane whispers to to the boy.

"I'm not going to handcuff you but I do have some tissue in my back pocket if you need it."

The husband with the camera tries one more time and succeeds with the group photo. Jane is hoping this is the end of the interaction. No such luck.

"So, you got a ride back home?"

"Yes, thank you, my brother is picking me up."

"Aww, that's nice - we're originally from North Attleborough but we reside in Woonsocket now."

"Ah, Rhode Island, the pass-through state."

"We moved there for his job - he's a snowplow driver in the winter and a flagger in the summer."

"A what?"

"A flagger!"

Reggie steps in.

"Her accent makes it sound like an insult... I'm the guy who puts the orange cones on the roads."

"Of course, my head is still somewhere over the Rockies - it's nice to meet a fellow civil servant."

"God bless the unions!"

Jane and Reggie high-five each other. Kora continues on.

"You wouldn't happen to know any police officers in our area?"

"Oh, not the neighbor across the street again - Honey, please give it a rest!"

"Reggie, he has 'The Stare' - and someone should investigate him."

Jane knows she will regret asking but she is too curious not to.

"The stare?"

"You know... 'The Pee-doh-file Stare' - I'm sure you were trained in it at the academy."

The detective tries to keep from laughing.

"Ma'am... maybe you could provide a demonstration?"

The husband sighs in exasperation. The wife positions herself to face Jane directly.

"Reggie, cover the kids eyes, cover them!"

He does.

"Okay, are you ready? - kids, don't look!"

Jane steels herself and faces Kora.

"Bring it on, ma'am."

The wife bugs her eyes out at Jane. The detective manages to maintain a serious face.

"Uh-huh, um-hmm."

"Sorry, officer, I know that was intense but you can handle it."

"It's exactly like on page 263 of our Criminal Stare Field Manual."

"Ah, I knew it."

"Kora, Honey, the man across the street has a thyroid condition, his eyes naturally bulge out because of it."

"I don't care what his condition is, I don't want Chester D. Molester looking at our kids!"

"Ma'am, if you go to your local police station, there are databases you can check if you can't find the info online."

"I know but I was hoping for a patrol car to swing by and give him the, 'I'll Arrest Your Sorry Ass If You Look At Her Kids For More Than Two Seconds Stare.'"

Jane immediate adopts that specific look on her face.

"YEAH, THAT'S IT, THAT'S THE ONE."

"I'll see what I can do."

The husband grabs both kids and hurries them up.

"C'mon kids, it's almost time for grandma to arrive - let's go surprise her with the 'We Love Nanna Stare' - say goodbye to the nice police lady."

The kids wave and Jane waves back.

"I'll catch up with you in a minute, Reggie, I want to finish my juice."

Rizzoli watches them leave and smiles at Kora.

"You have a lovely family."

"I know, thank you - my mother thought Reggie wasn't good enough for me and had a corporate accountant all picked out from one of her Bunko buddy's sons."

"What happened?"

"I knew Reggie was the one for me... sometimes you just know, ya know?"

"I do know now - did your mother ever come around?"

"Not at first, but when she realized it was a choice between him and her - and it wasn't going to be much of a choice at all for me, she wised up... and the grandkids helped."

"I bet."

"When you find someone who makes you happy and furious, who makes you laugh and cry, who makes you want to be a better person, who makes you feel like no one else in the whole world can... you hang on for dear life."

"Yes... you do."

The woman finishes her drink and smiles.

"It was nice meeting you, Detective Rizzoli."

"Goodbye, Kora with a K."

Jane watches the woman walk away and can't help but feel a few tears in her eyes.

"Oh my God, PMS hormones."

She takes a deep breath and scans around. Her eyes land on two young women who are kissing and hugging in a non-sisterly way. One has a Vassar sweatshirt on, the other a scarf from Mount Holyoke. They giggle uncontrollably as they walk by the detective.

"Yeah, that's not helping."

Jane gets up and checks the departure screens for a flight back to San Diego. She doesn't feel the arm around her waist until it's too late. She is picked up off her feet and spun around hard a few times.

"VOMIT COMET, VOMIT COMET, VOMIT COMET."

"FRANKIE, PUT ME DOWN BEFORE I PUKE ALL OVER YOU."

"You're no fun - what in God's name happened to your nose?"

"Something not soft landed on it."

"Aww geez, Janie, what did you do now?"

"Why did I do something?"

"Because it's always you."

"I did nothing, I was attacked!"

Frankie looks concerned. She continues.

"By Maura..."

Frankie raises a sexy eyebrow. She shoots it down.

"With a book..."

"What kind of book?"

"A book about body parts."

"The DVD still not enough for you?"

"Not that kind of a book."

"It must've been a really big book because your nose is busted up worse than your street hockey fight of '92."

"It's Maura… do you think she has anything other than really big books?"

"She has really big boobs, too."

"You'll make detective in no time."

"Why did she hit you with her book? – is that some kind of kinky foreplay thing I should know how to do?"

Jane leans into him and whispers.

"When you figure out what to do with the hood, I'll tell you the secret of the book..."

Frankie looks awestruck.

"Thanks, Sis!"

Jane screws up her face and punches at the air.

"There is no book trick you dimwit!"

"That you know of…"

"Maura hit me with her book because I told her about Michelle."

"Who the hell is Michelle?"

"Remember Michelle Hall from the police academy? – well, we ran into each other at the gun club, had a few drinks too many at the bar in Belmont, and, uh… and, you know, kinda sorta kissed… a little."

A horrified Frankie bellows at the top of his lungs.

"YOU MADE OUT WITH OFFICER HALL THE MUSCLE WALL?"

"SSSHHH, would you pipe down, already?"

"OH MY GOD, after that mental image, my pipe is going to be permanently down for the next decade, thanks a lot!"

"I would HOPE you are not having mental images of me."

"You're the one who put them there - take 'em back, take 'em back, right now!"

"Frankie, for the love of God, please lower your voice."

"What, we're in an airport food court - it's like a mall with planes, no one gives a shit."

"Frankie..."

"Ooh, look, giant pretzels, I'll be right back."

Jane plops down in a seat and hangs her head between her legs. Moments later, her brother returns with said bread item.

"Mmm, good - I'd offer you a piece but it seems like you have more than enough pieces to eat already."

Jane defiantly yanks off a side twist and stuffs it in her mouth. Frankie takes a seat next to her and leans back.

"So, you kissed Michelle, big deal - we're Italian, we're affectionate people."

"Then there must be some French on Ma's side with the way we were kissing."

"Hey, drunk people do that, we're drilling down for more booze."

"And I just happened to accidentally greet her boobs and crotch along the way."

"Christ, how far did it go?"

"Far enough."

"Which base?"

"Well past second and nearly sliding into third."

"Whoa."

"Yep."

"Did you break the clothing barrier?"

"Not quite - technically, our clothes never came off but my hands did manage to make it underneath her blouse and bra."

"Huh, I'm surprised Hall even wears a bra - there's not much there."

"Michelle's nipples are like friggin' cabinet knobs."

"No way!"

"Yeah way."

"Aww, man, knobby tits are the best."

"I know, I so wanted to take them and... wait... why am I telling you this?"

"Who else are you gonna tell, Pop? - I'm sure Tommy in the slammer would love to hear every detail, besides, you already told Maura and we can see how well that turned out."

"I had to tell her."

"It must be some kind of lez thing because I speak for every dude everywhere when I say, WHY?"

"It's called being honest."

"Yes, but by telling her, you will be forever haunted by the ghost of Michelle for as long as you are together with Maura..."

Frankie stands up and adopts his all-knowing professor persona.

"Let me explain with some helpful yet painfully accurate examples - a year from now, you're at that fancy knickknack building with the Indian on the horse out front."

"You mean the Museum of Fine Arts?"

"Quick, open your mouth 'cuz it sounds like Maura crawled inside... for other reasons."

"Frankie."

"Shh, let me continue - so you're at the museum with your brainiac girlfriend gawking at all those weird-ass splotch paintings when you say to her, "Gee, Maura, what does that look like to you?" and she says, "It looks like you sucking on Michelle's knob tit, Jane." - see where I'm going with this?"

Jane sits quietly in her seat. Frankie waves his arms in a flourish.

"Example number two - one sunny summer day in the Boston Common, you're having a sweet little picnic with your sweetie when she asks you, "How do the hot wings taste?" and you obediently reply, "Delicious, Dear!" and then she says, "But do they taste as good as Michelle's tongue?" - BOOM."

Jane sighs and rubs her eyes. Her brother scratches his chin.

"Example number three..."

"Okay, okay, Frankie, enough, I get it."

"Just trying to help."

The detective pats her brother's arm as he sits down again.

"Thanks, Bro."

"That's what I'm here for... but I won't object to you buying me another pretzel... and a beer."

"It's 11:30 in the morning."

"Are you in a position to judge?"

Jane palms her forehead and obliges her brother's request. She returns to her seat with a bottle of water. Both Rizzoli siblings nurse their beverages in silence until the detective whines her inner thoughts out loud.

"Jesus, I can't believe I cheated on Maura."

"You know you're not in confession, right?"

"I should be."

"Um, officially you're not a cheater since taco tasting with Hall wasn't involved - but you are definitely a douchebag."

"Ugh, I hate that expression."

"Is dickhead more to your liking? - where did the almost-deed go down, so to say?"

"In the handicap stall of the bar's bathroom."

"Nope, nope, you are a total douchebag - douchebag, for sure!"

"Thanks."

"Welcome, Sis, we've been waiting for you."

"Why did I do it, Frankie, why?"

"You're exploring your granola."

"You mean sowing my oats?"

"Whatever - look, if you wanted to land your plane on Michelle's tarmac, you would have... but you didn't."

"That doesn't make it right."

"No, but it doesn't make it completely wrong, either - there's no ring on your finger."

"There was on Hall's."

"That's on her."

"I was on her, and in her... to a point."

"But you stopped yourself in time because of the way you feel for Maura - that takes heart... and a whole lot of pelvic muscle control."

"Been watching my DVD again, Bro?"

"At least someone has - take a good look at all the lovely ladies who flash their landing lights right at ya and you don't even notice."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jesus, Janie, sometimes you can be dumber than a bag of hammers!"

Frankie turns his head and nods not-so-discretely.

"Over there, three o' clock..."

He points out the flight attendant giving his sister the eye. Jane immediately pulls her legs up into her arms and hides her head.

"She's probably looking at you."

"Oh, no, I would know if she was looking at me because I would totally be looking at her but she's way too busy looking at you."

"She's not looking at me."

"How would you know if she was looking at you because you've suddenly found your armpit much more fascinating, now pick your goddamn head up and look at her looking at you!"

Jane groans and slowly peeps an eye over her shoulder. The flight attendant smiles directly at her. She forces herself to smile back out of politeness. Frankie laughs out loud.

"See?"

"Shit, she's coming over here."

"Ooh, just enough time to give you a quick demonstration on the rest of this pretzel."

Frankie positions the center of the baked good next to his lips and waggles his tongue loudly. Jane is horrified.

"STOP... IT... STOP... IT... NOW."

The flight attendant stands directly before them. Her sole focus is the detective.

"Hello."

Jane shrinks into her seat and answers in nearly inaudible whisper.

"Hi."

Frankie leans into his sister's ear.

"Don't worry, I will tackle you before you two get to the handicap stall."

Jane stomps on her brother's foot. He yips. The flight attendant is perplexed but continues on.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but you have the most beautiful hair I have ever seen."

Unable to crumple up her body any smaller, Jane responds.

"Um, thanks, I wash it... a lot."

There is an uncomfortable silence until the flight attendant smiles again.

"I was wondering if you would be kind enough to fill out a survey on our frequent flyer program? - it will only take a few minutes and you can drop it off at the kiosk across the way... oh, and there's a coupon on back."

"Uh, sure."

The flight attendant smiles again as she hands the pamphlet to Jane.

"Keep washing that beautiful hair of yours... goodbye!"

"Bye."

As the flight attendant struts away, Jane rolls her eyes and smacks her brother with the pamphlet.

"She wasn't interested in me, she only wanted me to take her dumb survey."

A smug Frankie crosses his leg on his knee in confidence and leans back on his arm.

"Is there a place on there for you to fill out your phone number?"

"Yeah, but I'm not giving out my number for some airline promotion."

"Now, did she write her personal number on the back of the coupon?"

"Why in the hell would she write..."

Jane flips it over to see the number written in red ink along with the name of the flight attendant next to it.

"Oh, my God."

Frankie smirks and takes a closer look at the coupon.

"Wow, Sandi there drew a smiley face with her number and then dotted her 'i' with a heart... she is so ready to do you, Janie."

"Please stop."

Frankie kisses his biceps.

"Chest Master 1,826 - Dumb Douchebag Sister, 0."

The detective quickly tears the pamphlet into tiny shreds and tosses them into the trash.

"I don't know what the point of all this is, Frankie."

"My point is for you to stop getting in your own way and beating yourself up for a second - there is nothing wrong with taking a Corvette out for a test drive before you buy the Ferrari... but if you are really ready to buy the Ferrari, get the fuck in, lock the fucking doors, and fucking drive already, Geez!"

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you... after Maura sexed me up and down on her exam table of contagion and hit me with her book of blood and bones, she offered to have a three-way with me and an Estonian escort."

"I... fucking... hate you... Janie."

The detective cowers away from her brother with a wince and a simpering grin.

"And then she let me drive her Maserati to the airport."

Frankie bites his lower lip while mulling over his sister's statements. Instead of physically going after her, he counters with an emotional weapon.

"You forgot Ma's birthday."

"What?"

"That's right, while you were too busy drowning in a tidal wave of poon, your mother went giftless... except for the deluxe crockpot from her new favorite child!"

Jane is in a full-on panic.

"OH, DEAR GOD, NO, NO, NO..."

"You're a horrible daughter, Sis."

The exasperated detective jumps up from her seat and runs into the nearest airport gift shop. Moments later, she returns out of breath and carrying a large plastic bag. Frankie takes a closer look inside.

"Huh, a pink Patriots hoodie with sequins and bows... and chocolate-covered banana chips - no, that doesn't say, 'I completely forgot your birthday' at all."

"It was the best I could do - it was either this or salt and pepper shakers in the shape of lobster ballerinas."

"Ooh, knowing Ma, tough call."

"I know, right?"

"Try on the hoodie for a minute."

"Why?"

"I think there's a letter off, lemme see..."

Jane slips on the garment and spins around.

"I don't see anything wrong with..."

Frankie playfully but forcefully grabs his sister from behind and pins her down on the ground with her arms behind her.

"FRANKIE, WHAT THE HELL?"

He snatches her phone and takes several pictures of her in the hoodie.

"Jane Rizzoli: Hero Cop... in a pink hoodie with sequins and bows - I am plastering this all over the precinct walls!"

Jane's already husky voice drops into an octave of demonic snarl.

"I'mgonnafuckin'killyouI'mgonnafuckin'killyouI'mgonnafuckin'killyouinyoursleep!"

Frankie still has her pinned down and chuckles. A couple walk by them trying to decide if they should intervene. Frankie shoos them away.

"We're cops and siblings, move along, nothing to see here."

He now texts on Jane's phone as she struggles to break free.

"I think your girlfriend would love to see this, too."

Frankie pretends to be Jane as he types out the words:

"Hey Maura, I'm sending you this selfie of me wrapped in a pink hoodie because when I think of a pink hood, I naturally think of you. And I am wearing sequins and bows to demonstrate how deep my love is for you. It's so deep, it's pink. Thank you for knowing my own pink better than I do. I can't wait to hear all about the geology of San Diego in our next chat. And I met this flight attendant who wants me to join her mile high club. Maybe we could ask the Lithuanian if she wants to come along for the ride. Frankie says hi! Love you more than a Corvette, Jane."

Frankie holds the phone in front of Jane's face.

"Aaannnddd SEND."

Frankie hits the button as an apoplectic Jane is ready to strangle her kin.

"YouareaDEADman."

"Once again, you'll thank me for this - okay, I first sent that to mess with you for being such a lucky bitch, but it's also going to help you out in the long run."

Before he has a chance to explain why, an airport security officer comes over and separates the two of them.

"Mind telling me what's going on over here?"

"It's okay, officer, this is my sister we're just having a fun, family reunion."

"Doesn't look too fun to me..."

The officer knocks Frankie back on his knees and starts to cuff him. Jane leaps up and gets in the middle.

"WHOA, HOLD ON HERE - no one manhandles my brother like that except me..."

"Ma'am, please step back or you'll end up with some shiny bracelets to match your sequins!"

"Hey, we're BPD..."

Jane intuitively reaches for her shield but forgets it isn't there. Her hand desperately dives in her jean pockets searching for any form of identification. Frankie can't help himself.

"Sis, how many times have I told you not to play with yourself in public?"

"Frankie, now is so not the time..."

The younger Rizzoli ignores her and keeps teasing.

"I mean, she has women everywhere fighting to do that for her."

"FRANKIE."

"Hey, if you can't tell this nice airport security officer the truth, how in the hell are you gonna tell Ma and Pop?"

"I'm apologize for the scene, officer, I had a long flight and my brother... well, as you can see, he has special needs."

"You say you two are BPD?"

"Yes, please, check my phone - call Sergeant Vince Korsak, he'll vouch for us!"

As the officer dials the number, Frankie winks at Jane.

"I have an idea, Janie, you can send our folks a greeting card - Dear Ma & Pop, I now prefer linguini with clam sauce instead of sausage and peppers. Love, your oldest and only girl."

"I swear to God, Frankie..."

She bats him on the ear.

"Ow!"

"You are in for a lot more than that as soon as we get outta here!"

The officer hangs up the phone and turns back to them. Jane attempts to read his face.

"Were you able to get a hold of Vince?"

"Yes, Detective Rizzoli, Sergeant Korsak cleared you both."

"Thank God."

The officer releases Frankie and shows them both deference.

"I was made aware of who you two are, I sincerely apologize for the confusion."

Jane returns the respect.

"No apology necessary, officer, thank you for doing your job - we're sincerely sorry for our behavior..."

She nudges her brother hard.

"Aren't we, Frankie?"

"Yeah, man, sorry."

The officer shakes their hands and turns to walk away. He halts and hands back Jane's phone.

"By the way, when I was speaking with the sergeant, some lady texted you a picture of her twat... have a nice day!"

Jane is frozen with humiliation. Frankie spies over her shoulder and reads the accompanying text out loud.

"Lips, pink and open. A hood of sequins and bows. Await your wet kiss... Jesus, is that poetry?"

"Yep, a haiku instead of an ottava rima - Maura must be tired."

"Not too tired to text you her junk... and, again, you're welcome!"

"Please don't call it junk, Frankie, it insults her profession."

"So, let me see if I have all this correct... problem number one is a mega hot, mega rich doctor with mega boobs who can't get enough of fucking you and who is more than happy to give you high-end hookers, sports cars, and multi-media presentations of her lady parts - is that about right, Janie?"

The detective stares at her feet and shuffles them back and forth. She answers with a feeble smirk.

"And her eggplant parm is better than Ma's."

Frankie whaps her on the back of the head twice.

"You know that last answer deserved a double whapping..."

"It did."

Frankie now paces in front of her.

"And problem number two is a horny cop buddy with knobby nipples who will gladly do you in the can and can crack walnuts with her inner thighs."

"Frankie..."

"DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN, SIS, HOW DO YOU KEEP THE BLADE OFF YOUR WRISTS?"

"Frankie."

"Do you want me to stop at the strip club on the way home so you can nail a couple of pole dancers in the back alley?"

"Frankie, please."

"Frankie, please what? - please let me complain some more about my tragic love life and be even more annoying than a stoned Tommy playing with the tinsel on Christmas morning?"

The last 48 hours suddenly catch up to Jane all at once and she tumbles down to her knees. It's now Frankie who is in a full-on panic.

"JANIE..."

He grabs under her arms and guides her over to an empty seat.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The detective catches her breath as her brother urges her to drink her water. She does.

"I'm fine, just a little woozy."

"Sis, I'm so sorry - I forgot you're still recovering, too... nothing's gonna start squirting out of either end, is it?"

"If it does, I'll be sure to aim in your direction."

The two share a soft laugh. They sit in silence for a few minutes to recharge. Frankie quietly takes Jane's hand in his and squeezes it. She returns the familial gesture and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Drop me off at headquarters before we go home."

"Why?"

"I need to see the doctor."

"Doctor? - do you need to go to the hospital?"

"I need to see the head doctor - Dr. Cohen."

"Whoa, you scared me there... sure thing, let's go."

The two rise to their feet and head out.

"Are you sure you're feeling well enough for an IA shrink session, Sis?"

"I'll be fine."

"Good thing because Frost and Korsak are striking out big time with the DJ case."

"I am more than ready to return to work."

"It's time to get your gun and badge back."

"It's time to get my Maura back, too."

The detective and her brother embrace as they walk. Frankie suddenly trots a few feet ahead of Jane and calls back.

"By the way, I was kidding earlier... Ma's birthday isn't until next month!"

His face playfully mirrors his sister's upset reaction. He bolts out of the terminal with Jane throwing off the pink hoodie and chasing after him.

"I'm gonna kill you, Frankie Rizzoli!"

**_Author's note: Nothing like being trapped at an airport over the holidays for inspiration. Nikki & Nora is now up and running, please be sure to check it out. And for more of my thoughts on N&N, R&I, and general TV lezziness, be sure to read my November blog post at SlyNellie dot blogspot dot com - Thanks and Happy 2014!_**


	18. Chapter 18

Part 18 - Room 18

Outside on her rented villa patio, Maura is nude save for a strategically placed towel and prone atop a portable table. She is indulging in a deep tissue massage as her friend Ashok is prostrate next to her with hot stones marking a trail down the length of his spine. The two relish the chirping birds and the sound of their own breath as tall, silent masseuses ply their trade.

"Is it Saturday yet, Shoky?"

"Why did you have to speak?"

"Because I do not know what day it is anymore."

"It's only Thursday, my dear."

"Oh no, I have to go back to that place again tomorrow?"

"That is the usual requirement of a full work week."

"I hurt in areas I didn't even know existed before and I ache in muscles I had totally forgotten about since med school."

"Need I remind you it was you who wanted to work with live patients again."

"And why did I want to do that exactly?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea!"

"Three... three different individuals vomited on me in less than an hour - that didn't even happen to me in my sorority days."

"And it isn't even the peak of the season yet."

"There are actual seasons out here?"

"Besides pilot, award, and forever hot and dry, there is influenza season."

"Don't remind me!"

"And you haven't even made it past your second week yet."

Maura releases a deep sigh and then slightly chuckles.

"I hasn't been without its moments… today, I had a patient whose constant masturbatory practices left him with hematuria and carpal tunnel syndrome — he's 67!"

"Welcome to 'Cialis Syndrome' in the flesh."

"Don't they realize what they're doing to themselves?"

"Don't they realize that they will be the amusing anecdote at doctor dinner parties for the next month?"

The two laugh out loud as the masseuses look bewildered.

"Do you miss the dead bodies yet, my dear?"

"I am seriously starting to."

The two snicker and finish up their massages. As the masseuses take their leave, Maura and Ashok pull on their plush robes and make their way over to the poolside table. A pitcher of sangria awaits. Dr. Ramachandran fills both glasses as Dr. Isles gazes reflectively at the rippling water.

"I shouldn't have made fun of my patient, I can empathize with him after the week I have had."

"Still upset over Jane's little foray into the forrest of another?"

"No… and absolutely."

"Perfectly sensible answer."

"No, because she claims she didn't let it go too far."

"How far is too far?"

"It's all relative, isn't it? — is a kiss too far? — a grope? — more than that?"

Ashok raises his hand and waves it wildly.

"Yes, I do believe 'more than that' is too far, even for you, Maura."

"It never was before… until now."

"The question is, do you believe her?"

"I actually do since, one, I know Jane would not be deliberately dishonest about something of this nature with me because, two, she is scared out of her mind about her sexuality — it took her this long to act on it with me, her trusted best friend, the woman she claims to love."

"She must love you, because I can see how in love you are with her… and that is no easy feat."

"True enough… although her timing was less than ideal, she did confess to it when she didn't have to — she could have remained in Boston and made her way through every women's collegiate athletic team without saying a single word."

"She would have been too exhausted to say a single word."

"Heh, but her guilt and desire drove her all the way out here to me, Shoky, me!"

"And I am sure you took care of her."

"I did indeed — and I am somewhat relieved she acted on her attraction to Michelle because it means I am not a one-time experiment before she runs back to self-imposed heterosexuality and hides herself in the arms of a man again."

"Do you think that could still happen?"

"I am not entirely certain what will happen in the future, none of us really knows, but I did know the colossal risk I was taking when I didn't rebuff her romantic advances that night at her apartment — I could have laughed them off to an overabundance of bourbon and turned away."

"Not very likely, you're too curious."

"True, but I calculated the risk of losing my best friend and coworker to a one-night stand between us and the resulting awkward work environment because Jane was worth it… Jane is worth it."

"I'd say it's definitely more than a one-night stand, friends with benefits, whatever colloquialism you want to call it between you two."

"I wasn't sure it would be but I do believe it is based in love and it could grow into much more… but then the shooting happened and now Michelle."

Maura gulps down the rest of her drink. Ashok refills both of their glasses.

"You never really had the chance to properly date yet, have you?"

"It feels like we have been dating for a decade but I look forward to her holding my hand in public one day."

"Aww."

"However, the short-term goal of her performing oral sex on me remains — after the stress at work this week, I crave the feel of her warm, wet tongue on my…"

"WAIT, WAIT…"

It is now Ashok's turn to gulp his drink and then plug his ears. Maura playfully pulls at his arm.

"Stop being a child, Shoky, you have a child!"

"Yes, yes, can we please discuss her birthday party instead?"

"We already spoke of that earlier."

"Damn, you're not tipsy enough to forget that."

"Fine, I will spare you the Sapphic blow-by-blow."

"Please spare me any kind of blow that doesn't involve a phallus!"

The two friends giggle loudly and drain the last of the sangria pitcher. Maura becomes reflective again.

"Absolutely…"

"Absolutely what, my dear?"

"My earlier response of 'no and absolutely' — no, I am logically not upset by Jane's exploration because it fortifies her by recognizing who she is now and going through a second adolescence, so to say, will benefit us both in the long run, if there is to be a long run."

"Do you want a long run with Jane?"

"Yes, absolutely, more than I ever thought possible — I want what you and Philip have and I want it with Jane… there, I said it out loud to another person."

"Good girl!"

"And I am absolutely, emotionally hurt that she even looked at another woman — my jealous heart does not compute with my logical brain."

"Welcome to love, Maura Isles."

The lovely lady doctor begins to tear up.

"All my life, I prided myself on being self sufficient, not needing anyone, only wanting them when necessary — Jane is truly the first person I need, Shoky."

He offers her the sleeve of his robe to dab her eyes and poses in mock indignation.

"So, I am nothing more than an occasional dance partner to you?"

Maura wipes her tears, offers an impish grin, and pats his hand.

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"It stings like an arctic wind accompanied by a thousand angry scorpions!"

"You are so unabashedly gay."

"Or extremely literate... and gay."

"Yes, I believe both apply."

"Congratulations by the way, now so are you."

Maura muses on this last statement for a moment. Ashok follows up.

"Or are 'open,' 'fluid,' and 'adventurous' the new synonyms for slut?"

Maura nearly drops her drink.

"Wow, Shoky, with the judgement!"

"That was a tad harsh, yes?"

"Uh, yes!"

"If I had said 'strumpet' instead, would that have gone over better?"

"Not particularly — but, I am sure those are the exact same words floating around in Jane's mind as well."

"No, not quite those words, but I sincerely do apologize."

"As well you should."

"I've known you for a long time, my dear, so I know your feelings for Jane are not a capricious splurge for the sake of being fun or trendy…"

"Trust me, there is nothing trendy about Jane Rizzoli — she still thinks ponytails are the height of fashion."

"And I know you have always been an advocate for us, even when you were throughly ensconced in heterosexuality."

"I was thrilled by the women I was involved with in my past, but none of them — nor the men for that matter — have ever come close to how I am feeling now for my Hero Cop of Beantown."

Maura chuckles at the inside joke as Ashok looks askance. He crosses his knee and continues.

"For those of us who have been solidly in one camp, it irks us when others co-opt our hard-fought identity for frivolity or attention while we are gradually being 'erased' for a lack of a better term because no one wants to deal with a clear definition — gray is okay but black and white is not right."

"Shoky, I do understand your anger due to what the pop culture — Hollywood in particular — is doing, but you need to be more tolerant of those who are still trying to figure things out… like Jane."

"I forget how fortunate I have been for always knowing who I was and who I wanted to be with from a very young age."

"And Philip?"

"In his youth, he was coaxed into a brief vaginal encounter by his homophobic football teammates but, deep down, he always knew, too."

"Well, not everyone knows until they know, you know?"

"No, not really."

Maura sighs and refills her glass.

"Example number one… this girl I dated in med school was a hardcore lesbian at the time — the cropped haircut, the rainbow decal on the back of her Jeep, knowing every Indigo Girls song by heart — several years later, I run into her at an alumni event, she is happily married to a man, they have two children, and she claimed our time together was 'just a phase'… so, do you consider her to be 'bisexual,' 'the individual formerly known as queer,' or simply a LUG?"

"Hmm, more like SLUG in her reaction to you, my dear."

"Heh, she hyperventilated every time I spoke to her husband because she feared I would let something slip."

"Did you?"

"No, it was not my place to say — I don't mind keeping secrets but I do mind supporting hypocrisy… and that brings us to my next example."

"Please don't talk about Tundie… I would need another pitcher at least for her tales."

"This was more recent, before I became the chief ME and before I met Jane — I served on the children's charity board of my family's foundation — one of the board members was a young pageant-esque interior designer married to an older prominent conservative judge."

"We should switch out the sangria for mint juleps because I suddenly feel a southern breeze a-blowin'…"

"Do you want me to finish?"

"Only if Meredith Baxter sans Birney makes an appearance with an axe."

"Anyway, this lady always found an excuse to touch me — fixing my hair, picking supposed lint off of my dress, squeezing my elbow… I presumed it to be very platonic until, one day when a youth choir from Ecuador was singing about the woes of poverty, she squeezed a little lower than my elbow."

"Perhaps she was taking measurements for new carpeting."

"That's one way of looking at it… later, she propositioned a ménage à trois with her and her husband."

"Eww, I do believe another drink is necessary at this point."

"Pour generously, sweet Shoky… when I politely declined her offer, she countered with a one-on-one with only the two of us."

"And what happened when you turned her down?"

Maura's signature smile is highlighted with twinkling eyes and an arched brow. Ashok covers his face.

"No, you did not!"

"I did, thrice — we rendezvoused at a suite in the Fairmont."

"How could you… at the Fairmont, I mean?"

"I found her intriguing — so much so, I recorded our last session on my phone… for scientific purposes, of course."

"Of course."

"Months later, when her husband increased his anti-LGBT rhetoric, I reminded her of the video and hinted our time together would magically find its way onto the Internet — audio and all — if he decided to legislate on the issue."

"What did she do?"

"She didn't have to do anything — her husband resigned a few months later due to his own financial scandal."

"Ah, politics, bedfellows, and so forth… fortunately for you, it didn't turn into a Lifetime movie of the week starring a Canadian soap opera actress."

"I couldn't command a Cate Blanchett?"

"Sorry, not even for you, my dear."

"And don't even get me started on the convenience of acquiescing to the dominance of a patriarchal society…"

"Oh God, I need general anesthesia for that one!"

"Now, despite all of my well-known relationships with men, would you call my experiences with these women, 'homo-hoedowns,' 'closet cases,' 'sexcapades,' or whatever applicable acronym?"

"Ooh, I vote for 'sexcapades' if there's ice dancing involved…"

"Especially if it's Meredith Baxter sans Birney doing a free dance with an axe!"

The two nearly choke laughing on the last of their sangria. Ashok sighs and rubs the shoulder of his second favorite female.

"As usual, you win, Maura — it's hard to label any of your example encounters since none of them fit into the perfect 100% category."

"Precisely — but I do know with Jane there is absolutely no other way to describe it than 'right' and this is the very first time in my life I have ever felt that way about another human being."

"Brava, my dear."

"And why it is infinitely more difficult for her because of her family background."

"So, I shouldn't expect you and your ragazza italiana Bella at the next pride parade?"

"Maybe one day but I doubt it would be anytime soon — you have to understand the potential loss for Jane, unlike us, she loves her family tremendously and they love her even more — I suppose I am a bit envious of that."

"You are usually jealous of shoes."

"I know but she has had more love in her life than sex and I have had the complete opposite."

"Is that truly a bad thing?"

"It is when your Christmas as a seven year old is spent with your nanny and your maid trying to feign interest in an alcohol burner while singing _Feliz Navidad_ — Jane may be a novice in the erotic skills department but she has countless happy holiday memories to keep her warm."

"Well, with you as her instructor, I am sure she will be more than willing to learn when she is ready and the two of you can make your own yuletide merriment."

"I actually have a hypothesis about the depths of her true issue but no real proof yet."

"And that would be unacceptable to a brilliant detective."

"If I came at Jane with anything less than a theory, she would obliterate me."

"If you came at her with nothing but your stilettos, you might have a chance… and on that note, I have had way too much lady-centric talk today, it is time to bid you adieu."

"Shoky, let me call Billy to bring the car around, you are in no shape to drive."

"No worries, I am fully capable of walking, err… staggering, to the front entrance — Philip is picking me up."

Dr. Ramachandran carefully stands, leans over, and kisses Dr. Isles on the cheek.

"Thank you for the mostly relaxing evening, I will see you next week for the birthday party dress rehearsal."

"Do you honestly think that is necessary?"

"It's a full-on rehearsal for Khema wearing her dresses, she cannot decide on which one to wear and she needs her Auntie Momo's assistance."

"I believe you will need it more!"

"Bring juice boxes, you can decide on the kind and fermentation — goodnight, my dear!"

As her friend takes his leave, Maura realizes she is too tired and too drunk to go inside her villa. She stumbles over to the lounge chair and stretches out on it. Her mind wanders back to the last time she had a festive time with sangria.

It was the night of the New England Medical Association's regional cocktail mixer and the day after Jane left her sleeping on the floor next to her bathroom with 'sorry' scrawled on top of the morning paper. Isles deliberately kept her distance from her newly minted lover that day in order to give Rizzoli a chance to process her orgasms and the added dimension to their relationship.

She was heartsick when Jane did not invite her back to her bed that evening. No text, no phone calls, nothing. Maura reasoned that it was the detective's day off and not to overthink it or show up at her apartment unexpectedly.

The next day at work, Jane looked right through her as if she were a ghost. It was too much for the doctor who finished up her files in record time and clocked out a few hours early to attend the mixer in Waltham.

Maura fooled herself into thinking she could completely forget about Jane and pushed herself to attend the event where an overflowing sangria fountain and lighthearted chatter with medical kindred helped to brighten her mood. Several obvious passes were made by both genders but she expertly dodged each one until she made it safely back to her car alone.

Ten minutes down the darkened road, the doctor suddenly took notice of a vehicle in back of hers. She thought nothing of it at first until it tailed her for another mile. She couldn't make out the model because it was too far back and the light rain that was falling made it almost impossible to see. But there was no mistaking the weaving of an intoxicated driver.

Her first instinct was to call Jane but everyone was too far away to do anything. As Maura was about to panic and call 911, the light of a passing truck provided just enough illumination for her to make out part of the car's license plate.

"Un… believable!"

The doctor slams on her brakes causing the other car to miss hers by a mere fraction of an inch. They both pull off to the side of the road. Maura grabs her matching paisley purse and umbrella, gets out of her car, and strides up to the hood of the other automobile. She pounds on it repeatedly with the palm of her hand.

"ARE YOU INSANE, JANE RIZZOLI? — GET OUT OF THE CAR, YOU ARE INEBRIATED."

The engine roars to life again and slowly backs up away from Maura. The doctor lunges forward and places herself between the sedan and the road.

"THERE IS NO WAY I AM LETTING YOU DRIVE AWAY FROM HERE — NOT ONLY ARE YOU PUTTING YOUR LIFE AND YOUR JOB IN DANGER, YOU ARE PUTTING OTHERS IN DANGER… AND THAT IS NOT THE WOMAN I KNOW."

Maura could see her own breath steam out of her mouth. Jane's car was not moving but the motor was revving in a taunting manner. The doctor knew she had to keep the detective with her so she instantly surveilled the surrounding area and noticed the pink neon sign of a small motel in the distance.

The doctor let out a sigh, closed her eyes, and gritted her teeth. She dropped her head for a moment and then slowly brought it back up and looked directly at the driver's side. The mist was visible in the headlights as she placed her purse on the hood of the vehicle.

Then, with one hand holding the umbrella, she reached under her dress with the other to slowly remove the black silk barrier between her legs. She seductively stepped out of the underwear and kicked them up at the windshield.

Everything remained frozen until the doctor smiled, grabbed her purse, spun around, and regally stepped down the road in the direction of the motel. Maura made sure there were no other drivers nearby and kept her pace to a minimum.

The tires of the detective's car crunched the wet asphalt underneath them. The engine growled as the car's occupant directed it to follow. Isles was glad she had her umbrella with her because it was now starting to pour down.

The motel was the height of decor for 1973 and resembled every horror movie cliche she had ever seen. Undeterred, Maura ran inside the front office and waited for whatever undead manager to make his way over to her. Jane's car was idling in a back parking space. There were only three other cars in the entire lot.

"Well, hello there, miss — are you lost?"

A bearded man in his sixties with a local accent thicker than the surrounding woods saunters out from the back room and offers a friendly grin. Maura offers a monotone response.

"No, car trouble."

"Ah, would you like me to call you a tow truck?"

"Actually, I would like a room."

The man looks incredulously at her.

"You would? — I mean, we don't get your kind out here too much… unless someone is having fun with the gardener."

The engine to Jane's car is gunned repeatedly. Maura leans over to make sure the man understands what she is saying to him.

"I really, really would like a room, now please."

"Suit yourself."

The man motions to a pegboard filled with metal room keys.

"Take your pick."

"The room away from the other guests."

"Heh, guests, okay."

The man smirks and hands her the key to room 18.

"It's the corner room on the second floor —now, I don't care what you and your john do but try not to ruin the sheets."

Maura mutters under her breath.

"My jane."

Maura takes the key and feels a sticky residue all over it. She grimaces and wipes it on her sleeve.

"You… wouldn't happen to have any disinfectant around here? — bleach, ammonia, povidone-iodine?"

"I got half a bottle of Jack."

"That's the last thing I need."

The man searches under the counter.

"Ooh, you're in luck, I have some wet wipes from Clucker Bucket."

"Great… so great."

"Here, you can have 'em all, knock yourself out."

The man proudly hands over a half dozen tiny packets to Maura who immediately uses one and then slips the others in her purse as she hands him her cash. He winks at her.

"And if you are in need condoms, there should be a box in the bathroom."

Maura shakes her head as she walks out the door.

"Those won't be necessary, thank you, have a good evening."

She steps out of the office and heads down the flickering fluorescent-lit pathway. An outside staircase of rusted metal cradling thin concrete slabs awaits. Maura's shoes tap in languid rhythm with the rain. Their echo resounds throughout the parking lot as she passes by Jane's car.

The engine is suddenly silenced and the headlights vanish. Maura hastens her pace as the car door slams followed by the all-too-familiar stomp of boots beating across the parking lot in double time. The doctor's breath quickens as she knows the detective is coming for her.

The irregular footsteps of her rapidly sobering suitor grow louder and faster as she rounds the landing and heads up the final few steps. With the weight of another pounding up the stairs directly behind her, Maura feels the entire staircase vibrate as she reaches the second floor.

Now striding down the hallway, Maura calmly counts off the room numbers to herself while estimating the closing of the distance and impending collision.

"Five… four… three… two… eighteen!"

And with that, she is thrown up against the door of the room with such force, her umbrella and purse are knocked right out of her hands. There is no time for the key as Jane's wet hands instantly grapple with Maura's dress and win. They find their way from her breasts to her thighs as both try to swallow air between a battle royale with their tongues.

With Jane's pants down around her ankles and Maura's panting growing more ragged, both realize they are putting on a XXX show for the moths and raccoons. And neither one cares until an elderly couple emerges from a room down the other end of the hallway.

Both women freeze until the completely oblivious couple opens up their umbrella and trudges away. With one well-placed kick from the detective, the door flies open and the two of them collapse to the floor. The doctor is pressed against the green shag carpeting as her dress is ripped off and tied into a restraint around her wrists.

"Jane…"

With no response except being picked up and thrown onto the well-worn double bed, Maura bucks off her captor and manages to make eye contact with the wild woman before her.

"JANE…"

The ferocity of her tone is followed by a simple plea.

"Stop."

The detective backs off as the doctor wrestles the dress off of her hands.

"This… is on the verge… of non-consent… and I will not allow that — now, close the door."

Jane jumps up, sways for a second, and does the best she can since one hinge is broken. Maura continues with her instructions.

"Take everything off… slowly."

The detective strips off all remaining items on her body and casually tosses them aside. The doctor props herself on top of the bed in a more comfortable pose and nods."

"Now, come to me."

Jane does.

"Kiss me."

Again, Jane does what she is told.

"Softly… put your tongue away… for the time being."

The gentleness continues. Maura runs her fingers through the thick, rain-soaked mane of Jane as the two tentatively maneuver around each other. It only lasts a few minutes as the detective's passion eventually finds a way to break out of its forced confinement.

Once again, the established pattern of the doctor being rolled onto her stomach and spread open is initiated. Amidst the groaning and the grinding and the finger probing, Maura rejects the callousness of the position and challenges Jane to face her.

The detective tries to pull away but is unable to do so. By the faint orange glow of room's tiny nightlight, they lock eyes and legs, neither one willing to give in completely to the other. This only intensifies their actions.

The once frigid feel of the shoddy sheets gives way to a humid heat and even with 98% darkness to drown out the dingy surroundings, the emotional intimacy is overwhelming for both women. They refuse to muffle their cries as their climaxes follow in quick succession.

Uncharacteristically, Maura is the first to turn away on her side. A flummoxed Jane gasps for air and remains where she is. After a moment, Maura's dry voice interrupts the pelting of the raindrops on the roof.

"How was your orgasm, Jane?"

The detective's raspy response is two parts honest and one part WTF.

"It… was… fine?"

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Annnd… yours?"

"It was fine, thank you."

Jane hits her pillow with her hand and grits her teeth.

"Really, Maura, really?"

Jane now turns to Maura's side.

"Why are you acting this way?"

"Because if I don't act in a cold and clinical manner right now, I am going to end up screaming and crying."

"I don't understand — did I do something wrong?"

"Almost every part of this night was wrong but the worst thing is that I can taste the alcohol on every part of your body."

Both women fall silent. Maura watches the minutes turn on the digital alarm clock. She decides to speak.

"Please understand… I love being intimate with you Jane, I want us to continue to have sex, a lot of sex, but not like this."

The detective attempts to spoon with the doctor.

"I saw how they looked at you tonight."

Maura is barely able to breathe but finds the strength to respond.

"Wh… what?"

"I saw them… all of them."

"Wait… did you follow me to the mixer?"

"Yep."

Maura pushes Jane off of her and sits up.

"Why?"

"Cuz I wanted to be with you."

"There is something called a phone — and we work together in the same building — why did you ignore me all day yesterday?"

"I dunno… I can't answer any of those questions."

"Try!"

Instead of replying, Jane stares at the ceiling. Sensing the defensive closure, Maura recalculates on how much to push. She abruptly changes course and cuddles up next to her.

"Is that why you're intoxicated?"

"Your beauty intoxicates me, Dr. Isles."

"Heh, nice try, Detective Rizzoli."

Maura begins to kiss Jane on the neck. The strain between them starts to loosen.

"Okay, yeah, I had a drink or two."

"Likely more than two with no real dinner."

"Do those teeny toasts with half a shrimp on top of them count?"

"Not really."

"I'm sorry… I got wasted watching those so-called healers drool all over you like a half-starved wolf with a leg of lamb."

Maura continues her kissing as she answers.

"And yet I left alone, didn't I?"

"Mm-hmm."

The kisses trail around each nipple and slide down the sternum.

"And here I am in this future crime scene of a room deliberately ignoring a cockroach attempting to mate with a cigarette butt while lying naked on top of you and only you, right?"

"Uh-huh."

Maura now dips the tip of her tongue in Jane's navel.

"And after I came on your thigh, I cleaned us both off with wet wipes from Clucker Bucket?"

"Sooo sexy."

"Do you see what I am willing to do for you?"

The detective is only able to counter with a low moan as the doctor descends below.

"So, what exactly is your problem?"

"No… problem… now…"

"Good, because I am growing weary of the drinking and the distance."

For the next hour, Maura puts Jane's needs above her own and makes sure she is thoroughly satiated. Later on, the detective stirs in her sleep and begins to murmur. The half-awake doctor leans closer and listens.

"I never should have left you… Amie."

Now fully awake, a beyond frustrated Maura tries to rationalize that Jane was dreaming or she misheard her but the pang of jealousy felt earlier in the evening by the detective leapfrogged directly down the throat of the doctor.

Unable to fall asleep, Maura carefully leaves the bed, quietly gets dressed, grabs the keys to Jane's car out of her coat pocket, and writes with her 'barely berry' lipstick on the dresser mirror: WALK HOME.

Outside the room, she picks up her purse and umbrella and heads down the staircase to the lower level. She passes a young man carrying an armful of vending machine snacks in the hall. He is twice baked with weed and wine yet can't help but notice the beautifully disheveled woman before him.

"Whoa, lady, me and my buddies are having a little party in our room… care to join us?"

The doctor nonchalantly walks on by.

"Only if I can bring my friend…"

"Sure, the more the merrier."

"She's a decorated police detective and she's right up those stairs."

"Oh, shit!"

The man drops everything, literally hightails it to his room, and slams the door shut. Isles smiles to herself and waves to the office manager as she zooms off in Rizzoli's car.

Along with the empty sangria pitcher, the memory of that night lingers with Maura on her villa patio. She suddenly craves snacks in unnatural shapes and colors. Jane never did ask why the doctor made her walk home from the motel that time and Maura never managed to courage to ask the detective who Amie was. Until now.

She finds her phone next to the massage oil-covered towels and calls. An excited voice answers on the other end.

"Hey, Maura — how was work today?"

Before the doctor can find the words, the detective is positively giddy.

"Guess what, guess what?"

"You want me to venture a guess before I have any information?"

"You can ask me how my work is starting next week!"

"Did Dr. Cohen say you could return to duty?"

"She finally did!"

Maura feels her stomach flip.

"That's… that's wonderful news, Jane."

"I went to sessions with her non-stop since I got back from San Diego, they totally helped."

"Good… I'm glad."

There is an awkward pause.

"Maura?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"You… don't sound too glad for me."

"I am, I am…"

"Really?"

"Well, if I'm being entirely honest… it makes me a bit nervous, the thought of you with a gun."

"Sweetie, I promise you, everything will be okay… I'll be okay."

"Okay."

"Tell me, what else is going on?"

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to know something from that night we were at that motel…"

"Oh… right, that night — what do you need to know?"

"Who is Amie?"

It's the detective's turn to fall silent. Maura checks her phone volume.

"Jane?"

"Is that why you snuck out of the room and left me there?"

"Who is she, Jane?"

"I need to get going, Maura."

"Please answer me!"

"It was just a dream."

"Why are you lying?"

"I'm not lying."

"Your inflection dips on your high vowels when you lie…"

"Oh, my God…"

Rizzoli sighs on the other end of the phone.

"It wasn't a lie… per se."

"Please say what it was then."

"Yes, yes, it was a dream about a girl named Amie, a girl I used to know…"

"Used to know?"

"Yes, as in past tense, as in SHE'S FUCKING DEAD — now, leave it the hell alone, goodbye!"


	19. Chapter 19

Part 19 - In the 90s

Inside of The Homestead nightclub located in Boston's Theatre District, Detectives Rizzoli, Frost, and Korsak sit together on a plush velvet sofa overlooking the main dance floor. They are growing inpatient waiting for the DJ to come speak to them about the recent attempt on his life and the resulting murder of an innocent bystander. Jane gawks at the elaborate decor and the ultra expensive staging.

"This sure is nothing like the clubs I went to when I was young…-er."

Frost winks at his partner.

"I don't think bowling alleys with black lights count."

"Ooh, Frostbite!"

Barry chuckles as Vince takes in the scene.

"This is definitely on the high end of posh."

Jane becomes reflective.

"You know who would love this place?"

All three respond in unison.

"Maura."

Jane continues.

"This club is so her."

Frost pats Rizzoli on the shoulder.

"You should take her dancing here when she gets back, she'd like that."

"Yeah… she would."

Frost immediately picks up on the somber tone of Jane's voice. Before he has a chance to follow up, she changes the subject.

"Hey, Vince, you said you had something to ask me earlier?"

"Oh, right, didn't you used to know a Casey Jones from your school days?"

"Sure, the last I heard he was top Army brass, always sends my family Christmas cards, why?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news… he was killed not too long ago."

Jane is too busy studying the sexy cocktail waitress to register much of a response.

"Huh, that's terrible - was it in Iraq or Afghanistan?"

"Neither, it was back here in the States."

"No kidding?"

"Get this, it turns out he was posing as a solider all along... wasn't even a U.S. citizen."

Frost weighs in.

"Damn, I never bought his phony accent to begin with."

Korsak continues.

"He was also faking a war injury to collect extra disability benefits and score pity fucks at the local dive bar."

Jane shakes her head in disbelief.

"Wow, I should have suspected something when he tried to copy my history homework in tenth grade."

"Seems some real vets found out about it, skinned him alive with a field dressing knife, doused him in kerosine and lit him up like a homecoming bonfire."

Both Rizzoli and Frost exhale.

"Shit."

"Yup."

"That's an ugly way to go."

Jane ponders for a split second.

"I can think of worse…"

"We've worked on much worse."

"Did it happen here in town?"

"Nope, North Carolina."

Jane scoffs.

"Southerners… oh well, not my jurisdiction, not my problem."

"Just thought you should know."

"Thanks, Ma will miss his sparkly reindeer cards…"

The cocktail waitress smiles at the detectives and struts up the stairs. Jane's furtive glance trails directly behind her. Frost notices and scuffs his partner hard on her foot with his.

"Ow, hey, what-the-fuck, Barry?"

"Oh, hey, what-the-fuck, Jane?"

Frost nods at the cocktail waitress and then glowers at a guilty-looking Rizzoli. A clueless Korsak looks around?

"Did I miss something?"

Both Frost and Jane point off in the distance.

"A bat… we think we saw a bat… over there."

"The club probably keeps it here as part of the act."

"Neat-o!"

Korsak immediately heads off in the direction of the fictional bat leaving the two of them alone. Now that Vince is out of earshot, Barry leans over.

"Your first official day back on the job and already scoping out the hotties?"

"I wasn't scoping her out, Frost."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm thirsty."

"For what now?"

"Forrrr water!"

"For something."

"Gimme a break, man, it's either stare at a bunch of overpriced lighting fixtures, you and Korsak's hound-dog faces, or a PYT in a LBD — which one would you choose?"

"C'mon, Jane, who do you think you're fooling?"

"She… could be a suspect."

"She has an airtight alibi and you know we previously ruled her out."

Rizzoli realizes this is a pointless battle because Frost is as good as a detective as she is.

"Fine, my gaze may have lingered a bit too long."

"Your newly-discovered gay gaze?"

"Shhhhh!"

"Um, hate to break it to you, partner, every cop in the BPD knew long before you did, Korsak has seen your lady naked, thanks to your phone, and the only one here who is truly shocked by your revelation is the nonexistent bat."

Barry nods over to Korsak who is still searching for the bat with his flashlight. Jane sighs as she scratches her chin. Frost pats his partner's shoulder.

"Everything okay between you and Maura?"

"I haven't spoken to her in a couple of days."

Barry looks concerned. Jane rubs her face.

"I mean, we text when we can but she's been really busy with her work and planning her friend's kid's birthday party and I don't want to bother her."

"Did you two have a fight about something?"

"It wasn't really a fight since I didn't give her much of a chance to — she asked me about someone from my past and I wasn't exactly ready to talk about it… I'm still not ready to talk about it."

"When you are, if you can't talk to Maura or your family, you know I'm always here."

"You're a sweetheart, Frost, but you have enough on your plate."

"I always have room for a side of Rizzoli… and you could always talk to Dr. Cohen, too."

"And why would I want to do that? — I just got rid of the woman."

"This isn't job related, you can arrange for private sessions with her at her house."

"Right, when I win 10k off of a scratcher, I'll be sure to do that."

"Your sessions will be covered by our insurance, it's part of the BPD strong body/strong mind initiative."

"The what-the-what initiative?"

"Geez, Jane, try reading your employee handbook."

"In my spare time."

"You've had plenty of that lately."

"Ha."

"Remember those corpses we pulled out of the Frog Pond a few years back?"

"How could anyone forget?"

"Exactly, it gave me nightmares for months."

"I didn't know that, you should have said something."

"I did… to Dr. Cohen in private, and it helped."

Jane squeezes her partner's forearm.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"It wasn't something you could help me with… the point is, I found someone who could — now, I like you and I like Maura and I like you and Maura together, please do whatever is necessary to work it out."

"Thanks, Barry, I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

"Let's hope you'll never have to find out."

The two exchange warm smiles. Korsak startles them both by letting out a loud yelp.

"Hey, could one of you help me over here? — I think I got my tie caught in one of the record players!"

Barry jumps up.

"They're called 'decks,' Vince."

"Whatever, do you mind?"

As Frost goes over to his sergeant, the cocktail waitress returns with a wide grin and kneels down next to the sofa. She speaks directly to Jane.

"The owner of the club will be with you shortly, detective."

Jane averts her eyes from the overflowing cleavage and answers curtly.

"We're actually here to see the DJ, Mr. van Assendelft."

"Yes, he knows you're here."

The young woman leans in closer to Rizzoli.

"I know I have seen you before…"

"No, my partners have already interviewed here — this is my first time today."

"I mean, I have seen you on the Internet — you're that hero cop."

"Whew, for a minute I thought my brother posted a family dinner video to YouTube."

As the detective awkwardly tries to laugh off the tension, the young woman lightly trails two fingers along Jane's wrist.

"Is there anything I can do for you while you're waiting?"

Jane nervously bounces her crossed leg and looks away again.

"Nope, I'm good."

The young woman smirks and seductively slips a matchbook into Jane's jacket pocket.

"I sure hope so."

"Listen, Miss, I'm seeing someone…"

The cocktail waitress now whispers into the detective's ear.

"I have inside info for you and only you… my number's on the cover."

She quickly stands up as Frost and Korsak return. Rizzoli clears her throat and returns to her work-related bitch face.

"Would you kindly remind Mr. van Asshole that we are here to try to save his life? — if he doesn't want our help, we have better things to do with our time."

"Jane!"

In a stern tone, Korsak reminds Rizzoli who the lead investigator is and addresses the petite platinum blonde cocktail waitress before them.

"If you could please let Mr. van Assendelft know we are waiting for him, thank you."

She smiles at all of the detectives as she leaves but shines an extra gleam to Jane. Frost taps his partner's foot again.

"Did you give it to her, Jane?"

"Huh, what?"

"Your order — you said you were thirsty… for water."

Before she can shut Barry down, a tatted up, skinny, biracial man who is barely out of his teens shuffles up to them. The dangling cord of the day-glo orange headphones wrapped around his neck accidentally smacks Jane in the face. She rolls her eyes.

"Great, now they're sending over the busboy!"

Frost shakes his head at Rizzoli as Korsak immediately stands and shakes the young man's hand.

"Mr. van Assendelft, thank you so much for seeing us again."

Jane is stunned.

"THIS… is the DJ?"

Frost and Korsak nod in the affirmative.

"You don't look old enough to be in a place that serves booze, let alone headline it."

Despite his irritation at not being recognized, the young man with a faint Dutch accent remains courteous.

"Hello, I am DJ Diederick — you are a new face to me."

"Detective Jane Rizzoli — I worked on the other slain DJ cases before… I took some time off."

"Ah, yah, this is true, I now recognize you from social media."

Jane looks bewildered at Vince who shrugs his shoulders. She then turns to Barry who sheepishly answers.

"Your gunshot wound has its own Twitter page."

Everyone laughs except Jane. Diederick speaks directly to Vince.

"Sergeant Korsak, I am not sure why you are here again, I thought I answered all of your questions before?"

Rizzoli's gravelly growl is aimed right at the DJ.

"A young woman is dead because she happened to dance and stumble right in front of you as the trigger was being pulled."

"Her mistiming saved my life and I will always be grateful for that, but, as I have already told Detective Korsak, I do not know the girl and I do not know why anyone would want to kill me."

"You went through all of the footage we showed you from the other clubs and you didn't recognize anyone at all?"

"Sorry, no… EDM — and I hate that term — isn't a small subculture anymore."

Diederick waves his hands for emphasis.

"I know of the dead DJs but I did not know them as friends, we did not share the same labels, residences, representation, or even the same fan base."

Frost speaks up.

"He's right, Jane, the first club catered to a big beat urban crowd while the second one was more brostep for college kids and high schoolers pretending to be college kids."

"And this place?"

"Acid trance for rich hipsters Tuesday through Thursday, anything that makes your eardrums throb and bleed all weekend long."

Both Rizzoli and Korsak think Frost is speaking a foreign language. Diederick is in awe and grins at Barry.

"I will only talk to this man, you other two need to go away."

The older and heavier club owner strides over and plunks down on the sofa between them. He is clearly agitated.

"Okay, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, detectives, but I have a business that is losing money because of all the negative buzz — I'm sorry about the girl, this shit happens, people die everyday, we've taken up a collection for her family, there isn't much more I can do."

Jane speaks up.

"So, you don't care if the perp shows up again and, this time, doesn't miss?"

"We've got bodyguards on Diederick 25/8 and now we need to go — drop by again when you have some solid leads or a warrant… adios, BPD!"

The man yanks Diederick by the arm and they rush off. Jane shoves her hands in her pockets and snorts.

"That went well…"

Frost shakes his head as Korsak flips through his notepad.

"Everyone shuts up when the fuzz is around."

Both Barry and Jane glance at each other and smirk.

"Fuzz, Vince, really?"

"Hey, no making fun of the old guy."

"Well, you did get your tie caught in the turntables — sorry, Frost, decks."

"And mentioning 'Solid Gold' dated you…"

Barry pinches his fingers together and holds them up to the senior sergeant.

"Just a little bit."

Jane giggles.

"Don't feel bad, my mom loved that show."

"At least he didn't mention 'Dancing with The Stars'… within the first five minutes."

"Okay, I get it, knock it off already."

"What the hell is this crap they call music anyway? — I call it a migraine inducer!"

"It sure lines the pockets of DJ Diederick van Assendelft."

Jane scowls.

"Heh, the kid has 'Dick' and 'Ass' in his name… that about sums it up."

"Hey, he's a multimillionaire and one of the Dirty Dutch masters of hard house — show a little respect, Jane."

"My God, Barry, you sound like you're channeling Maura… I sure wish she was here."

"Yeah, Dr. Isles always helped us find that extra link we needed to break open a case."

Jane pats the matchbook inside her jacket pocket.

"I might have a link to look into — let's go grab a coffee."

Jane and Barry go to leave but Vince heads in the other direction.

"I think I'm going to dig a little deeper into the financials of this place, I'll catch you both back at the office."

"Later, Vince."

As the sergeant walks away, Rizzoli leans into Frost.

"He's going to look for the bat again, isn't he?"

"He's so looking for the bat."

The two shake their heads and smile. They walk across the street to a coffee shop and sip their orders on a bench outside. After a few minutes of case chitchat, Jane grows nostalgic.

"Damn, so many ghosts rattling chains around here lately."

"Thinking of your high school friend who died?"

"Which one?"

"The Army dude Korsak told you about earlier?"

"Oh, him… no, not really — although thanks for reminding me, I need to tell Ma to send his family some flowers and a Mass card — you know, you volunteer to join up, that's the risk you take, just like the risk we choose every day."

"But… he didn't die in battle, remember?"

"Right, right… you know, volunteer to go to a southern state, that's the risk you take."

Jane flashes an impish grin as Barry laughs.

"Spoken like a real Bostonian!"

"And that's the wicked truth, my friend."

Jane grows serious once again.

"Hey, Frost, remember that place in the 90s, Club Royale?"

"You mean The Royale on Tremont?"

"No, this isn't a mega dance club, more like a hole in the wall lounge that went under years ago — it was popular with…"

"Queers?"

"I was going to say socialites who didn't want to be seen but, yeah, it served the gay clientele."

"Did you ever go in there?"

"Once… well, I never made it past the sidewalk."

"What made you think of that?"

"More ghost flashbacks."

"Not good ones, I take it?"

Jane reflects back on the day when she and her then partner - a dead ringer for Michael Jordan - pulled over the black Porsche 911 and the saucy coed in the peppermint-striped dress who nearly seduced the rattled rookie Rizzoli.

"Actually, there was one good one."

"What happened?"

"Back when I was barely out of the academy, I was going to meet up with this smoking hot crazy girl at Club Royale… right at the stroke of midnight."

"And?"

Jane bites her bottom lip and sighs into her cup.

"I turned into a fucking pumpkin."

Frost checks the time and reclines back on the bench.

"Now, this sounds like a story I definitely want to hear."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Go on, before I run out of caffeine."

Jane smiles with her eyes as she vividly recounts the tale of moving violations with the college girl in the peppermint-striped dress and her rich douchebag boyfriend in the German roadster. She leaves off at the point where the dark-haired temptress begs Rizzoli to meet up with her at Club Royale. Jane still doesn't make the connection that the young woman was actually Maura. Barry shakes his head and sets down his drink.

"And she did all that right in front of her boyfriend and your partner?"

"I still have wet dreams about it to this day."

"Man, I forgot how much tail we caught when we wore the uniform."

"Maybe you did, I was too busy hiding… and putting in twice the effort because plenty of guys did not want me or respect me in that uniform."

"I hear you, my sister."

Frost looks on pensively as Rizzoli starts to get up.

"C'mon, we need to get back."

Barry pulls her back down on the bench.

"Hold on, you are not going anywhere until you finish that story — so, what happened at Club Royale?"

"Well, sadly, this is not the fun, sexy part…"

Jane launches into how she could not eat or sleep all day and night since her brush with the young woman in the peppermint-striped dress and how she counted down the hours until it was time to meet up at the club.

An exceedingly oppressive heatwave began on that day and lasted all summer that year. The anxious rookie officer got off duty an hour early, ran home, and changed into one of the wrap dresses she would wear when the BPD asked her to go undercover as a prostitute. It was a basic black and white pattern, nothing too garish or provocative and it showed off her long legs. She debated back and forth on whether to sweep her black hair up or leave it down and wild.

Jane even considered earrings but her cousin Marie borrowed her favorite hoop ones months ago and they had yet to be returned. She decided on flats since heels made her back hurt and she was already considerably taller than the object of her desire. Rizzoli put on a little lipgloss, grabbed her leather "hooker" purse she used to hide her gun in, and drove off.

For the next few hours, Jane took a tour of all the side streets in Chinatown trying to calm her nerves before heading west. Her stomach grumbled from chomping through a whole box of Tic Tacs and a pack of gum.

When she finally arrived on the block where Club Royale was nestled between the elms, she parked her car as if she were on a stakeout — far enough away to be inconspicuous but also close enough to see who entered and exited the main door. There were individuals and couples, both gay and straight, who strode the sidewalks and loitered around the entrance.

As the clocked ticked closer to twelve, three times she started up the engine to leave and three times she shut it down, determined not to chicken out. There was no sign of the young woman in the peppermint-striped dress but Jane figured she was probably already inside. At 11:54, she threw open her car door and propelled herself to the curb.

After fixing her hair, adjusting her dress, locking her car, and releasing a big sigh, Rizzoli started to take a step forward when she heard her name shouted from behind.

"Hey, Janie, is that you?"

It was Scott, the brother of the firefighter she was dating at the time. She reluctantly faces him.

"What are you doing here, Scott?"

"What are you doing here, Janie?"

For a brief moment, the two of them regarded each other with an equal measure of suspicion and guilt. Jane was the first to answer.

"I'm undercover."

"So, that's why you're not out with Greg?"

"Yep — and why are you here?"

The man shifts nervously on his heels. The future detective picks up on this immediately but does not press it. She also smells alcohol on his breath but wants him gone ASAP. He stammers with his made-up excuse.

"A buddy of mine owes me a drink, told me to meet him up here… I, uh, I've never been to this place before."

"Seems like you've already crawled out of a few pubs tonight."

"Sure, I went to a couple of real bars for real people — ain't nothing in here but preppies, trust fund brats, and queers."

"Heh."

"And you don't fit into any of those categories, Janie… unless you're not telling me something."

Jane folds her arms and smirks her signature smirk of irony and impatience. Scott points at her.

"Wait a minute, I should have known, your dad's plumbing job is just a rouse and you're really a Kennedy!"

"Guilty as charged — actually, I do fit into another category."

The young man's eyes grow big but Jane laughs it off.

"I'm technically a preppy, I was accepted at BCU."

"You?"

"Yeah, me… but I didn't go because my family couldn't afford it."

Instead of being impressed, Scott sniffs.

"Good thing you didn't go because guys don't like chicks with brains, and you're already at a severe disadvantage with your lack of boobage."

"Excuse me?"

"They're there but there's really not much there there, good thing my brother is an ass man."

"Must run in the family…"

Before they could continue their verbal sparring match, two men walk down the sidewalk holding hands. Scott shifts his focus to them.

"Keep moving, ladies, my brother's girl and I don't need AIDS."

Jane gets in his face.

"Hey, quit it."

The two men keep on walking but one of them answers.

"We're not interested in anyone with a cock smaller than his one brain cell…"

Scott immediately rushes the man and throws him up against a large tree.

"What did you say to me, faggot?"

Before punches could be thrown, Jane intervenes and pulls them apart. She pushes Scott hard in the torso until he backs off.

"Get out of my way, Janie."

"Stop it right now or, I swear to God, I will haul your ass downtown!"

Jane pulls out her badge and flashes it for all to see.

"Think I'm joking here? — try me!"

The two men run off as Scott looks at her with disgust.

"You sided with them over me?"

"I'm not taking sides here — I'm keeping you from getting your face bashed in and a drunk and disorderly off your record."

Scott huffs his displeasure but knows Jane is right. She stomps to her car and throws open the passenger side door.

"You've already ruined my night, now get in my goddamn car so I can drop your pickled carcass off at Greg's.

He spits on the sidewalk in defiance and then complies.

As Jane guns the motor, she checks the clock on the dash. 12:02. She slowly pulls away from the curb and then passes by the club's entrance. She stops at the corner and checks her rearview mirror. Scott questions her.

"What are you waiting for?"

Jane punches him hard on the shoulder and growls.

"Shut the fuck up before I throw you out in the middle of the road."

Jane takes one last look in the rearview mirror and spots the woman formerly in the peppermint-striped dress now wearing a stunning pewter halter dress. She had emerged from the club's entrance and was visually searching up and down the street for her date.

After a few moments, when it became abundantly obvious to the young lady that the rookie cop was a no-show, she forlornly returned to the door, cast one last futile glance, and then disappeared inside. Rizzoli squeezed back the tears in her eyes and zoomed off into the night with her unintended passenger and a trunk load full of regrets.

Now, back in the present, Jane squeezes back a single tear as she crumples her empty coffee cup and pitches it into the trash. She exhales slowly as Frost shakes his head.

"Wow, it's a good thing your detective skills are far better than your relationship skills because you sure did surround yourself with some premium-level losers in your past."

"Sadly, his brother wasn't much better."

"And you never tried to find that hot babe?"

"I easily could have but Scott's little run-in with those… those guys scared the living crap out of me and I quickly decided to move on."

"You know, her boyfriend's car info might still be in the records…"

"Nah, it's too late for that, besides, life had other plans for me."

"Sorry, partner, that's truly rough stuff to go through."

"Yeah, you don't know the half of it…"

"Ghosts again?"

"And witches, and goblins, and bats made out of aluminum."

"Huh."

"You know, back then, I couldn't even have black friends, let alone a girlfriend girlfriend."

"Tell me, Jane, if we didn't work together, would you have a black friend now?"

"Hey, if I didn't have you and Korsak, I wouldn't have any friends at all… but point taken."

"And you do have Maura."

"And she's a lot more than a friend."

"Vince and I aren't that easy, we fully expect you to pay up on the lunch you owe us before you try to sleep with us."

The two bray with laughter for a minute. Jane catches her breath and drops her head.

"Funny, the more I think about it, that girl in the peppermint-striped dress kind of looked like Maura."

"Guess you have a type."

"I think all women are looking like Maura to me right now."

"Except that cocktail waitress, she definitely did not look like Maura… please keep your thoughts on the case, Detective Rizzoli."

She slowly nods as Barry gets up and puts on his jacket.

"I'm heading back to the station, are you coming with me, Jane?"

"I need to follow up on something, I'll meet you two later."

"There's a patrol unit headed here to keep an eye on the club — direct them where to go."

"Sure thing."

"And don't forget what I said about Dr. Cohen."

"I won't… thanks, Frost."

"Later, partner."

As Barry vanishes around the corner, Jane slumps on the bench and pulls out her phone. She reads the number on the matchbook from the cocktail waitress and dials it. A friendly, high-pitched female voice instantly answers.

"This is Chyanne."

"This is Detective Jane Rizzoli, I believe you have some information?"

"Took you long enough to call me, detective."

"I'm listening…"

"We need to meet alone later tonight when I get off of my shift."

"Miss, please don't waste my time."

"Trust me, I am definitely not a waste of your time."

"Look, do you have solid info or not?"

"That's your job to figure it out — I'll text you when and where… and don't dress like a cop."

Before Jane can respond, the call ends. She debates calling back but decides to wait and see what happens. After a few minutes, she does a search for the private practice number of Dr. Cohen and gives it a call. She leaves a voicemail.

"Hey Dr. C, it's Detective Rizzoli… um, I know we're officially done and all but I was… I was wondering if you happened to have an opening for a private session… if not, not worries, forget I even called, bye."

Jane hangs up, fumbles with her phone, sucks in a deep breath, and dials Maura. She does not expect her to answer and is instantly tongue tied at the sound of her voice.

"Hello?"

"Ahmmmhh…"

"Jane?"

"Yeah, yeah, hi."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm better now talking to you."

Jane's voice has a smile in it and Maura's tone instantly softens.

"How are you feeling?"

"Slightly stressed, I'm back working the DJ case with Frost and Korsak."

"That's fantastic!"

"It does feel right."

"Please don't overdo it."

"I won't, I promise."

"How is it going?"

"I'm pursuing a lead… but this whole thing has made me realize how much I miss my favorite ME, not only my favorite person."

"I miss everyone, too."

Jane half-jokes.

"Even me?"

"Especially you…"

"I miss you so much, Maura, it hurts, it physically hurts."

"Well, we'll see what I can do about that later — right now, I have exactly two hours before Khema's birthday party and Shoky is already on his third meltdown."

"Oh, sorry, I'll let you go."

"No, it's fine, email me your case notes and I'll be happy to go over them tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I want to… maybe we can work on them together?"

"I'd like that, I'd really like that, doctor."

"I'd like that, too, detective."

Their silent sizzle is squashed by Jane turning serious again.

"Listen, I want to apologize about the last time we talked — I know we need to have a deep conversation about… what you asked me about before… but it's not the kind of topic you can easily discuss in a five-minute phone call."

Maura recognizes the anguish in her lover's voice and gently reassures her.

"I understand that and want you to be completely comfortable discussing it with me."

Before they can continue, two uniformed officers approach the detective from the street. The female officer calls out in a suggestive voice.

"Where do you want me, Jane?"

Rizzoli looks up from her phone and her jaw drops. It's Officer Hall.

"Hall? — what the hell are you doing here?"

Isles overhears and cries out.

"Hall as in Michelle Hall?"

"Maura, wait…"

"You have got to be kidding me, Jane!"

"No, please don't hang up… don't… dammit!"

Jane shoves her phone in her pocket and jumps up as both officers stand before her. She snarls only at Hall.

"Thanks a lot, you had to go and ruin things yet again!"

Michelle gets right up to Jane's face and stares her down.

"As you are well aware of, detective, we have three dead brothers, four more still in recovery, and about a half dozen out on mental sick leave — the BPD is drastically understaffed and it needs all the volunteers for overtime it can get."

Jane realizes she is speaking the truth but silently curses the heavens for sending her the one cop she did not want to see. Hall takes a step back.

"Now, instead of copping your usual bitch cop attitude, you could try thanking me and my partner for pulling the next two shifts to babysit a bunch of club monkeys."

With her hands on her hips, Rizzoli motions to the other officer.

"I want you covering the side entrance at all times and keep track of who goes in and out."

"Yes, detective."

They start to head off as Jane bites her bottom lip and squints at the ground.

"Hall… can I speak to privately for a moment?"

Michelle leaves her partner and coolly approaches Jane.

"You wanted me?"

"Not anymore."

Hall snickers.

"Don't flatter yourself, Rizzoli, I'm only here doing my duty, you're the one turning this personal."

"Did you tell your wife?"

"About?"

"About what happened with us at the bar."

Hall nearly doubles over with mock shock.

"Are you high on pain meds, Jane? — you honestly expected me to tell a woman who is about to give birth any day now about my academy crush fucking me in a bathroom stall?"

"Almost fucked, we almost fucked, but we stopped."

"Right, because that little detail would have made the truth so much easier to… swallow."

Michelle licks her lips for emphasis.

"You're a real piece of work, Hall."

"And you're delusional, Rizzoli — did you tell your precious Dr. Isles what happened?"

"I did, actually, yeah, because she deserved the truth."

"And how exactly did that go for you? — I heard she's still not back in town."

"She has business to take care of."

"Well, she can handle her business her way, you can handle your business your way, but let me handle my affairs the way I want to handle them."

"Interesting word choice."

"What did or did not go down between us at that bar is of no concern to anyone, especially to my wife — now, if you want me to do my police job, please let me…"

Hall now bends into Rizzoli's ear and whispers.

"If you want me to do any other kind of job, come find me…"

Jane snaps her head away and stomps off.

"Go fuck yourself, Hall!"

Michelle yells after her.

"And you go do the same, Rizzoli, because if it's not with me, and it's not with Maura, it better be with some woman soon before your volcano blows and destroys everyone and everything around you!"


	20. Chapter 20

Part 20 - Six Dozen Cupcakes

At Ashok and Phillip's house in the San Diego suburbs, everyone is rushing around putting the final touches on little Khema's third birthday party. The backyard blowout has the festive theme of an early 1900s county fair. Sadly, Maura and her bestie boy bud are the only active participants in said theme.

Shoky adjusts his straw hat and frantically searches the house for his fair lady friend. He finds her crumpled on the floor of the upstairs guest room with her knees pulled to her chest, staring at her phone. He carefully approaches her.

"My dear, the party is outside - are you upset that we are the only two in costume?"

"No… well, yes, but I have a larger concern - Jane called earlier."

"Oh, of course she did - now what?"

Maura tries to speak but only a squeaky cry comes out. Shoky sighs and sits next to her. He holds her hand and pats it while grimacing at her phone.

"And what did your lovely antagonist do now?"

"I would like nothing more than to blame it all on Jane but Michelle is the instigator once again."

"That married officer she had a near tryst with?"

"Yes, her… our conversation was enjoyable, even positive until that very moment."

"Why was she there?"

"I am almost certain it has to do with work - I can tell when Jane is hiding something by the tone of her voice but she was as genuinely upset as I was by Michelle's intrusion."

Maura dries her eyes and spins her phone on the floor like a top.

"And the fact she has left 20 text messages and voicemails is a solid indication that she wants to explain what happened."

"Are you going to answer her?"

"Not now, I want to enjoy Khema's birthday."

"And that is exactly what you are doing sitting up her alone in the ugly bedroom attempting to use your phone as a ouija."

"I wanted time to process without the presence of unicyclists and jugglers."

"Maura, I know how much you love Jane but please do not let her ruin this day for you… or for us, I beg you!"

"Your authentic but ridiculous hat and my great-grandmother's parasol have already ruined the day for us, Shoky, more than you will ever know."

"And that's why we'll be bringing in therapists for Khema's fourth birthday party - now, hurry on down, we really need you to man the vegan booth."

"Yes, because me dressed up like this isn't humiliation enough - I am also the one who gets to hand out stuffed squash blossoms and gluten-free cookies to a bunch of toddlers screaming for cake and ice cream."

Shoky casually reaches over and pops open the top few buttons on Maura's dress to reveal her hidden cleavage.

"There… now you will at least get the attention of all the straight men at the party."

"Are there going to be any other partnerless, childless individuals here or do I get to play the freak show star as well?"

"You've already done that enough but I might be down a balloon animal artiste - ooh, I do believe Phillip invited Ronnie and Travis, they're single and a lot of fun."

"Perfect, they can flirt with each other while I perform quasi-sexual acts with latex tubing in the shape of a deformed chihuahua."

"You don't know how much that will entertain virtually everyone at this party… especially after a few drinks from the adult punchbowl.

Dr. Isles can't help but chuckle at the comment while Dr. Ramachandran gets up. He turns to her with a serious face as he helps her to her feet.

"You know, my dear, if you want me to fetch you a taxi so you can fly back to Boston right now and work this out with Jane, only say the word and I shall do so."

Maura leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

"Thank you, my friend, but this day is about Khema, not Jane."

"Agreed."

"Give me a few minutes, I need to compose myself."

"Make it quick, the brass band is about to start…"

"Honestly, Shoky, who thought it would be a smart idea to have loud musical instruments at a kiddie party?"

"We did…"

"Oh, God, you're right."

"We were freaked out about the possibility of the bouncy house flying away with the children inside."

"Is it too late for mimes?"

"It's always too late for mimes."

"Well, let's go find some cotton balls for the guests' ears and alert the double bell euphoniums that the big bassoons are on their way."

She frames her bosom with her hands and flashes her trademark smirk. He laughs, tips his hat to her, and exits the room with a flourish. Maura now turns to her phone, gives it a fleeting glance, and then buries it deep inside of her vintage satchel. With a heavy sigh, she grabs her parasol, twirls it in the air, and heads down to the party below.

The strong California sun bakes Maura in her booth for over an hour. She sits alone staring at her bland baked goods as the kids flock to the cotton candy machine and the adults swarm around the margarita blenders.

Only two souls were daring enough to try her stuffed squash blossoms so far. She thinks back momentarily to a month before the shooting — weeks before she and Jane became intimate — when she cajoled the reluctant detective into trying one of the blossoms in the BPD lunchroom.

"Instead of a highly questionable tuna salad sandwich from the health-code violating lunch truck, please sample one of these instead, Jane."

Rizzoli pauses mid-bite and wrinkles up her nose.

"What are they?"

"Stuffed squash blossoms."

"They look like they should be the centerpiece instead of the meal… what are they stuffed with?"

"Well, I know a simple answer of 'yummy goodness' would be your preference but in order to be specific, I will list all of the ingredients and how I prepared, mixed, and sautéed these blossoms to near perfection."

"Please don't."

"Your mother was impressed when I told her."

"My mother is impressed by string cheese."

"You need to give Angela a little more credit than that."

"Nah, I don't wanna talk about my Ma and I don't wanna talk about flowers as food, I just wanna eat my boring sandwich in peace."

"You eat eggplant."

"So?"

"If you eat fruits and vegetables, you eat various parts of the plant — the leaves, the stalks, the seeds, etc. — so, why are you extremely intimidated by the flower?"

"I am not intimated — flowers are for putting in vases and in your hair, not in your mouth!"

"Or… maybe the blossom represents something to your psyche on a deeper level and that is why you are opposed to eating it."

"OH, MY GOD, MAURA, STOP."

"WHY WON'T YOU EAT MY BLOSSOM, JANE?"

Suddenly, they both notice the silence around them as everyone in the lunchroom stares in their direction. Isles clears her throat and cowers in her chair as Rizzoli buries her face in one hand and smoothes back her hair with the other. Overhearing the whole exchange, Detective Frost leaves his table and casually pulls up a chair at theirs. He looks directly at his partner.

"Eat her damn squash blossom, Jane."

"Oh, not you, too."

Maura folds her arms and shakes her head at Frost.

"Why does she whine so much?"

Jane does the same.

"Why does she annoy so much?"

Frost adopts a faux pensive look and studies them both. He turns to Maura

"She whines because that is her way of letting you know that she wants your attention and then when she has your attention, she wants even more of it, so her whining increases…"

He now turns to Jane.

"And she annoys you with meaningless facts and figures because that is her way of expressing her acknowledgment of your attention, aka the whining, and countering with a need for even more of your attention and when she receives that attention, she wants to hold on to it with a very firm grip — it's like foreplay but without the tonguing of nipples."

Jane blushes and scrapes at the tabletop with her index finger. She mockingly whispers.

"Thanks, Barry, thanks a lot."

She grabs one of the blossoms, gulps it down in two bites, and throws the crumpled napkin on the table.

"Mmm, happy now?"

Maura attempts to regain control with a more formal approach.

"I believe we all can agree on the fact that Jane and I are experts at getting each other's attention — thank you, Detective Frost, for your astute observation."

"It's an observation even dead victims in the morgue can make… so, Jane, what else is Dr. Isles going to make you put in your mouth?"

Jane nearly chokes, bolts up from the table, stomps over to the trashcan and spikes her half-eaten sandwich into it.

"GOD, I JUST WANTED TO EAT MY FRIGGIN' SANDWICH."

She quickly exits the room. Maura is about to say something but Frost holds up his finger to shush her and stares at his watch. Rizzoli reappears seconds later and looks directly at Isles.

"Dinner at The Robber tonight?"

Maura smiles the smile that only belongs to Jane and answers.

"I'll be there at six."

Rizzoli nods and leaves. Barry now bears an impish grin.

"Of course you'll be there, where else would you be, Dr. Isles?"

It's now Maura's turn to blush. Detective Frost gets up to leave.

"You know it's not a matter of 'if' but 'when' with you two, right?"

"Don't be absurd, detective…"

"It's not absurd, just an astute observation."

As he leaves, he pops one of her squash blossoms in his mouth and gives her the thumbs up.

Back in the present, Maura smiles at the memory until an image of a naked Officer Hall with her body strategically covered in squash blossoms and Jane eating them off of her explodes in her mind.

"Dammit, Jane!"

She unwittingly slams her hand down on the food platter, nearly knocking it and herself over. Maura is too busy straightening herself out to notice an intrigued female admirer across the way. The woman slowly walks over until she is practically on top of the booth.

"My, my… I wonder what those poor flowers ever did to you?"

Maura looks up and takes in the stunning sight before her. The woman is around her age and, like Jane, has a definite Latin look with jet black hair and smoldering brown eyes. Unlike Jane, she is three inches shorter with sexy dark red lips, voluptuous curves, and abundant cleavage. In fact, she is the only one at the party who matches Maura in bosom bragging rights.

The doctor attempts to answer but her mouth is too dry to launch vowels. The woman offers her a cold drink and a smoldering smile.

"You must be thirsty."

The doctor quickly realizes where her eyes are focusing and deploys a classic Rizzoli family maneuver to break the awkwardness with a joke.

"Actually, I'm Maura… Thurstie is over by the pool with her husband, Udo."

The woman looks confused. Maura gives up.

"Sorry, I believe I have the beginning effects of heat exhaustion."

"I'm not a doctor but maybe this will help."

She hands Maura a margarita.

"Not to be picky but I am a doctor and alcohol will most definitely not help this situation… at least, not until later on."

"Ah, keeping it prim and proper for the kiddies."

"For now… thank you, I am extremely flattered by your kind gesture."

Isles' eyes are now firmly locked with the ones across from hers. The woman nods her head and reveals a smile that is equal parts sweet and sinister.

"Not a problem, I could bring you some water if you'd prefer?"

"I actually would prefer if it's not too much to trouble."

"It's the kind of trouble I enjoy… for now."

As the woman exchanges the beverage, Maura strips off the smothering dress to reveal a peach lace tank top and khaki short-shorts. She wipes her face as her admirer returns with the icy H20. The woman immediately takes notice of the new attire.

"That was a remarkably quick change — are you part of the magic act?"

"Not that I wouldn't put it past Shoky to incorporate me into some kind of skit but I really needed to lose the dress."

"Absolutely no complaints here… or from the gentlemen over there by the gazebo, although their wives seem less than thrilled."

"Funny…"

The doctor pauses, glances back at the others and then laser-focuses her attention back on the woman before her.

"I haven't noticed anyone else but you."

Maura assesses the woman's body buried under the meticulous ensemble. She paired the formal black Escada suit and matching stilettos with a white dress shirt bearing French cuffs. It isn't quite right for a youngster's birthday backyard barbecue. Yet, it worked perfectly with her oxblood nail polish and lipstick which was now framing a vicious grin.

"Good… my spell must be working."

The two exchange a short laugh and a long stare. As Maura lolls in a slow swallow of cool liquid, the woman leans closer. Her distinct scent combination of apples battling cinnamon, vanilla, and musk is oddly alluring.

"And I can't wait to taste your squash blossom."

Maura nearly chokes on the water as the woman playfully picks up one of the vegan offerings. She nibbles curiously at the blossom and then licks her lips.

"Delicious."

Maura is relishing the attention more than the complement.

"Thank you."

"I'm not a big fan of almond cheese but I am loving the mint."

"It's a new recipe for me."

"I usually add a little epazote in mine."

"That's a bold choice."

"I will have to make them for you sometime… if you don't mind non-vegan ingredients — I savor the flavors of a successful hunt, whether it's deep in the forest or at the local farmers' market."

"I would like that very much."

The woman finishes the blossom and extends her hand.

"Hello, I am Veronica Ortiz."

Maura gently squeezes it in hers.

"Maura Isles."

"It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Maura — and you may call me 'Ronnie,' everyone else does."

"Oh, you're Ronnie… I was expecting, well, I don't know what I was expecting."

"I hope you're not too disappointed."

"On the contrary."

They continue to build their mutual admiration clubhouse. Maximum Occupancy: 2. Maura runs her fingers through her hair and Ronnie counters with a crooked smirk.

"Thank you, by the way, for being the first one here to not call me The Evil Queen."

Maura is perplexed.

"Forgive me for not understanding your reference."

"Apparently, I am a dead ringer for the actress who plays the character on some reimagined fairytale TV show."

Maura is now aghast.

"Fairytales on television instead of in actual books… and that is why this country will be third-world status by mid-century!"

"Such an optimist."

"Sorry, I don't watch much television — I believe it is mostly for morons."

Ronnie cocks her head and lets loose with a slightly defensive yet still playful purr.

"It does have more than its fair share of reality disasters but there are more and more amazing dramas now, in fact, one could argue that due to the decline in live theater, as well as movies reduced to comic book blockbusters, television is the most important cultural medium today."

"God — if you believe in one — help us all!"

"This from a physician who peddles flower-eating to children as if they are old enough to tell which ones are potentially poisonous and which ones aren't."

Maura stands back as if she were just punched in the gut.

"OH, OH, NO… I didn't even consider that!"

The panicked doctor quickly gathers the remaining blossoms and places them back into a container. Ronnie playfully hands her the lid.

"It seems you and I are the only non-mother vagina owners at this event."

The doctor is still too disturbed to even respond. Ronnie takes notice and pats her hand.

"Hey, relax, it's fine… no harm done."

"I should… I should have realized that, so stupid."

"Please, we're at a children's party, everything here is stupid."

"Why are you even here?"

Ronnie points to Phillip's sister, Deanna.

"To support my business partner… and for the free alcohol, of course."

"That is always a solid reason."

"Especially when there are wall-to-wall toddlers."

"Not the maternal type, I take it?"

"Nooo… although, I do enjoy watching the little ones play and picking out which ones will grow up to be the criminals, which ones will grow up to be the victims, and which ones will end up as organ donors."

Maura can't help but be both horrified and amused.

"I certainly hope you do not attend many children's parties."

"I try to avoid them as much as possible."

A glittery pink and orange soccer balls rolls over to Ronnie's feet. A young girl with a blonde ponytail and two missing teeth smiles and waves to her to kick it back. Ronnie promptly kicks it over the girl's head and into the yard next door.

"It doesn't take them long to sense my disdain — how about you, Maura?"

"I believe children like me… but I tend to bore them with stories about science and literature."

"I'm sorry, you lost me at 'science and literature' — so, are you the maternal type?"

"No, not yet, maybe one day - right now, I'm trying to figure out my personal life."

Ronnie suddenly grows somber.

"You're Ashok's friend from Boston."

"That would be me."

"I heard about what happened, I'm so sorry."

"I don't really want to think about it today."

"Understood and I apologize if my prior comment was a little heartless but I was trying to say anything to get you away from this booth… even if I had to eat all of your squash blossoms myself."

"Your comment was a keen one, one I would have eventually made myself if I hadn't been so distracted by my… phone."

Ronnie looks around for the offending phone but only spies the blossoms. Maura follows her stare and decides to change the mood back.

"Although, it would have been interesting to see if you could handle all of my blossoms."

Ronnie throws her hand out, pops off the lid of the container and rapidly downs two. She stops midway through the third and attempts to speak with her mouth full.

"I'm sorry, not that these aren't succulent but they cannot compete with the kettle corn cart - would you please get out of the booth now, Dr. Isles?"

The two of them are playfully laughing as Maura takes Ronnie's hand and vacates the vegan concession confinement. They linger in the touch for a moment.

"Since you have utterly enchanted me, Ms. Ortiz, I will take that margarita now."

"Excellent."

"Let me go put the rest of these in the kitchen."

"And I'll find us a place to sit away from the circus."

"County fair… it's supposed to be a county fair."

The two of them finally part. Maura practically skips into the house and tries to make room in the refrigerator for her leftovers. Ashok is placing six dozen cupcakes on a tray. He notices her change in demeanor and smirks.

"Sooo, you've met Ronnie."

"Mmmm, I have met Ronnie."

"I knew you two would hit it off."

"Trying to fix me up when you know I'm with Jane?"

Shoky cocks his head and throws his hands up.

"I don't see Jane here, but I do see Ronnie with two drinks in her hand pretending not to watch your every move through the window."

"Ooh, how's my hair?"

"Trust me, honey, she's not looking at your hair."

"How long have you known her?"

"About four years now — she's the one who found us this house, our dream castle."

"She works with Deanna in real estate?"

"Now she does, before she used to work in the entertainment industry."

"Ah, that explains her defensiveness over television… probably not a good idea to insult someone's profession, even if it is a former one."

"My dear, why are you still talking to me?"

Maura finishes washing her hands in the sink.

"Good question."

"Go, go, ask her about tennis, she has a wicked backhand."

"I'd rather learn more about her forehand."

"Now, that sounds like the Maura of old — go play with your new friend, and please try to remember this is a children's party… no fornicating in the pool!"

"Is the porch swing off limits, too?"

Shoky winks as Maura is all smiles. She exits the side door and joins Ronnie on the porch swing away from the others. The woman's eyes light up as she hands over the margarita.

"We could join the others if you'd like, Dr. Isles, but I was hoping for something a little more intimate."

"Wow, you're direct."

"Intimate… for conversation."

"And that is the second time I have put my foot in my mouth with you."

"You do have a lovely pedicure."

"I apologize for my earlier statement about television being for idiots."

"Morons, I believe you used the term morons."

"I did and I am sorry."

"Don't be, I appreciate your candor, especially when you're mostly correct."

Maura drains nearly half of her drink. Ronnie leans back and sips hers as she nods toward the kitchen.

"Checking up on me with Ashok?"

"Guilty as charged… and you do look more like a realtor-slash-former-TV-exec than an evil queen."

"That's because I haven't shown you my crown and scepter yet."

"I think I need another margarita."

"How long are you on sabbatical from your job in Boston?"

"I definitely need another margarita."

"Let me go get that for you, my pretty."

Ronnie jumps up and returns almost instantly with another cocktail. Maura changes the topic back to the woman's occupation before she could ask more about Boston.

"I thought being in the San Diego area would be far enough from the entertainment industry."

"You're in the state of California, you're never far enough away."

"So, what did you do and why did you leave?"

"I was the chief benefits coordinator for a major studio but the recession hit and, quite frankly, I could no longer deal with the hypocrisy and manipulation."

"And that naturally made you turn to real estate?"

"Heh, cute — if you're an adult who gets screwed by the market, that's your own fault for not doing your research — I feel no remorse over that… but I could no longer sit by and be a part of an industry that perpetuates harmful subtext and blanket stereotypes to the detriment of my own tribes."

"Tribes, plural?"

"The LGBT/POC tribes… I'm what they call in the biz a 'triple play' — they can tick off the female box, the Latina box, and the lesbian box all in one swoop."

"That's a lot of ticking boxes."

"But they go off separately with a subdued whimper instead of a unified boom."

"It's difficult when the bomb squad is all hetero white male."

"And if I were also a Sunni amputee, I would have my pick of government jobs."

Maura's jaw drops and lets out a chuckle.

"That is truly evil, Ronnie."

"Thank you!"

"You really don't think things have gotten any better?"

"To a degree, but with hundreds of shows and channels, there's still so much work to be done."

"My fam… my friend's family is always mentioning how Italians are still portrayed as guidos, goombahs, and gangsters."

"Well, that's because they are."

"What?"

"I'm half Argentine and half Cuban, I can get away with that."

"Whereas I could definitely not."

Ronnie slowly fingers the top of Maura's shirt and notices the redness and freckles.

"You are definitely not tanning so you are definitely super caucasian and you most definitely could not."

"The curse of the Irish gene, I need to apply more sunscreen."

"I'd be more than happy to help you with that…"

Before Maura can even pull the tube completely out of her satchel, Ronnie snatches it up and begins to rub her upper arms and shoulders with the lotion. The doctor's nanosecond of hesitancy quickly vanishes. She attempts more conversation but is thoroughly enjoying the massage.

"Um… yes… uh, what… what were you saying… about work… to be done?"

Without missing a beat, Ronnie continues her train of thought.

"What angered me the most when I worked for the studio was how many power lesbians behind the scenes didn't do enough to advance the cause when they're in the perfect position to do so - and I know because I slept with most of them… sorry, TMI?"

"No, no, I'm far from a saint myself."

"That's good to know."

"But isn't it about niche and numbers?"

"Congrats on buying the party line, those are all easy excuses, not solid reasons — look, you know who was the biggest niche in the 70s when there were only three networks?"

"I'm guessing you are about to say blacks because they were less than 10% of the U.S. population back then."

"Someone is very good with statistics."

"It's my job… and it kept me busy in school when no one would speak to me."

"Aw, no one spoke to you? — that's hard to believe."

"They were too busy speaking to my breasts."

"I remember those days… it still happens."

The two share an insider's laugh. Ronnie continues.

"It took the guts and gamble of a white Jewish man to make 'The Jeffersons' and it changed the course of history beyond entertainment."

"Movin' on up…"

"Indeed — when I looked around and saw queer women with the pull and the platinum to do something but they deliberately sat on their fat asses in their Malibu dream houses with their Barbie wives waiting for straight guys or Canada to do it…"

"Je t'aime, Canada!"

"I had enough and, one day, I quit."

"From flipping the bird to flipping property."

"Heh, in a manner of speaking, yes - and when they finally do something about it, it's usually in the form of an ancillary character which is lazy writing and completely missing the point - enough, yet?"

"No, go on, I'm enjoying this… and you missed a spot on my elbow."

"Sorry… better?"

"Much."

"Slapping a piece of duct tape on your mouth for an image-rehabbing photo shoot after a decade of homophobia is not for the benefit of the LGBT community, it's for the benefit of individual careers dependent on the generosity of queer casting directors."

"Isn't that always the case in entertainment?"

"It doesn't have to be — what really enrages me are the lesbian "influencers" who use their voice to actively promote and carry water for these cockroaches in exchange for favor and profit."

"That is vile but I am a big believer in karma — I've witnessed it constantly on my job."

"Don't get me wrong, there are always exceptions but do you think anyone outside of the industry unions gives a flying fuck about how many gay directors or ethnic show runners are behind the scenes? — that sexually confused teenager in Mississippi needs to see a happy and productive queer lead who doesn't kill or die, and kids growing up in the barrio need to identify with main characters who are more than thugs and druggies."

Maura puts down her empty glass and applauds.

"Brava."

"Sorry, I tend to get up on my soap box after a few drinks… speaking of, let me refresh ours."

Before Maura could offer to take her turn and get them, Ronnie is off like a shot again. Philip walks by and gives her the thumbs up as Ashok runs over to her and fans her chest area with his straw hat."

"What did I say earlier about this being a children's party? — your headlights are on high beam, put them away, putthemawaynow!"

"Sorry, Shoky, once they're on, it takes awhile for them to dim."

"UGH."

Shoky runs off and then comes back with a white swan pool floatie. He wraps it around her bosom and rushes off. Maura calls after him.

"No, this won't attract attention at all!"

Ronnie returns with the drinks and stares quizzically at the inflated waterfowl. She sighs and takes her seat next to Maura again.

"Lemme guess… Ashok made you cover up?"

"He did."

"Then, let me take care of that for you."

The woman sips her drink in one hand and pops the air valve with the other. The blow-up bird hisses to its death as she tosses it aside. Ronnie leans into Maura's ear.

"I'm not in the mood for swan."

"Yes, my queen."

The two grow closer and relax in each other's company. Ronnie takes off her jacket and loosens her collar. She muses out loud.

"You know, I was only supposed to be here for about 20 minutes."

"I'm so glad you stayed."

"So am I."

As the porch swing slowly rocks, their lips are within millimeters of each other. Both sense an impending kiss when a tall, blond man with blue eyes and a goatee suddenly appears before them. He has an annoying accent.

"Hi, I'm Travis — I heard the singles corner was over here?"

Both Ronnie and Maura glower at him like he is death incarnate. The realtor growls through clenched teeth.

"Keep moving, Travis…"

She waggles her fingers in front of his face for emphasis.

"You need to vanish… now!"

He is too frightened to respond and does an about face in the opposite direction. Alone again, Maura makes a verbal observation.

"I hate beards."

"As do I."

The two laugh away the tension. Once again, Ronnie takes Maura's hand in hers and squeezes it.

"Please forgive me if I have been a bit too aggressive today — when I see something I desire, I use any and every potion I know to get it."

"I like aggressive and I admire your passion when you speak your mind… it reminds me of someone else who does the same."

Maura's voice trails off for a moment and so does her gaze. Ronnie recognizes that look in herself and gently releases her hand.

"It's okay, you can say her name… if it is a 'she' we are speaking of, and I haven't completely misread the situation."

"Not entirely, I am with a woman presently but I've been with men in the past, I believe it is the 'B' in your LGBT equation."

"It is and thanks for not shying away from that… and is this 'she' the reason you totally shut down the topic of Boston?"

"How very preceptive of you."

"I have my talents."

"I have noticed."

"What I haven't noticed is your girlfriend."

"Her name is Jane and she isn't here."

"If she were, I'm pretty sure I would've been thrown into the fire pit by now."

"Yes, you would have — we're… working out our differences."

"It's hard to work on those differences when you're on opposite ends of the continent."

"I am discovering this with each passing day."

"Unless there's a new time travel app I am unfamiliar with."

"We're still processing."

"Shall I take my leave?"

"No, especially since she is processing with Michelle — your turn!"

"O-kaaaay, my ex and I broke up six months ago and yet it feels like six minutes ago… I still have a hard time saying her name."

"Do you know American Sign Language?"

"I'd prefer to write it on a piece of paper, chew that piece up, and then spit it into a men's urinal."

"But how do you really feel?"

"My ex-girlfriend is gorgeous — a rebel soul with a snow white smile."

"Can you dig it?"

"Heh, but she also has an unsavory savior complex, as well as poor taste in leather jackets… but, could she ever rock a chainsaw with those arms."

Ronnie licks her lips and pauses for a moment to reflect. Maura recalls how sweaty Jane used to get after her workouts and how hot to the touch she was when she taught Maura how to use her gun. Both women are now silent, lost in their own individual memories. Suddenly, they both feel a spray of water on their faces. Ashok stands before them with a toy blaster.

"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but we have a bleeding child on the side yard, DOCTOR!"

Maura jumps up from the swing.

"I'll be right back."

Ronnie thinks about helping them for a brief second, ignores that thought, and returns to her drink. Ten minutes later, Maura struts over and resumes her position.

"A minor abrasion due to running on an uneven brick pathway, no ambulance required."

"I must be tipsy enough to have an expression of concern on my face."

"You're really, really not into children, are you?"

"It's why me and the ex broke up — she wanted them and I didn't… I prefer horses."

"Jane and I are nowhere near that level of discussion in our relationship yet… we have to get past certain outer genitalia before we venture in utero."

"Are we ready to change the subject yet?"

"More than ready."

"Are you a general practitioner or do you have a specialty?"

"Actually, it's pathology — I'm the chief medical examiner for the commonwealth."

"Wow, you go, chica! — so, what made you want to see dead people?"

"I wanted to be their voice of justice."

"Is it a deep, creepy voice that sounds like this? — RRRAAARRRGGGHHH."

Ronnie scares the child across the way as Maura's somewhat drunken cackle echoes loudly.

"Only if the vocal chords have atrophied."

"At least dead people can't sue for malpractice."

"Depends on the lawyer… funny, there is a story about how I became a ME, a story I haven't even shared with Jane yet."

"Uh-huh.

"Jane is not one for medical talk, in fact, she stopped playing word games with me when I pulled 'choledocholithiasis' and 'esophagogastroduodenoscopy' out of my ass… the last part of that phrase was hers, not mine."

"I never would've guessed."

"I remember when Jane…"

Ronnie holds up one finger to Maura's lips and silences her immediately. She then uses that same finger to point out an overweight man in a corner with headphones and a laptop.

"Deanna's husband is about to play DJ with his reggaeton version of 'Material Girl' - that, coupled with all the sudden Jane references, is my cue to leave."

Maura grabs Ronnie's arm and holds it.

"Wait… please don't go yet."

"Are you sure?"

"Mm-hmm, I'm enjoying your company… Veronica."

The woman offers a wicked grin as she sucks in air through her teeth.

"Damn, Maura, you have me spellbound."

"Then my charms must be working."

"They don't have to work too hard."

The daring doctor offers up her left clavicle as a reward and the regal realtor kindly accepts with simple, soft kisses placed near the distal end. Both women are wise enough to not take it too far. For now. The two watch and listen to Phillip's brother-in-law mix/murder the throwback hit. Ronnie rolls her eyes.

"I would ask you to dance but not here and most definitely not to this."

"Another time for sure."

Maura suddenly pays close attention to the earphones on Deanna's husband. They are the exact same brand as the DJ murder victims back in Boston.

"How interesting!"

"Those margaritas are clouding your judgment."

"No, not the track, the headphones."

"His nephew is one of the biggest DJs in the area, he probably borrowed them from him."

Isles struggles with herself to resist work mode and files this fact away for later. She returns her attention to the warm woman sitting next to her. Ronnie is now engrossed in text messages. She is none too pleased.

"I sincerely apologize, Maura, I need to go tend to a business matter… but I was hoping maybe you would come with me later to this little cantina in the city that serves the best yellowfin ceviche north of Baja?"

"That sounds amazing… but I promised Shoky I would help clean up after."

"Of course, I understand."

The look of disappointment on her face isn't enough to cloud the sudden annoyance over the distracting texts. She still manages a seductive smile aimed right at the center of her target.

"Here is my card — please give me a call if you change your mind… it was a true pleasure meeting you, Dr. Isles."

The two share an extra long embrace.

"You, too, Ms. Ortiz."

The two consider kissing each other goodbye but think better of it since they sense the opposite effect would happen. Ronnie takes her leave and Maura makes a beeline for the snow cone stand to cool down. Moments later, she goes up to Deanna's husband and pretends to like his music.

"That's… that's really good."

"Thanks."

"I enjoy your… unique versions of retro pop — very innovative."

"Glad you like it, my heavy metal version of 'No Scrubs' is gonna blow your mind — wanna hear?"

"Nooo, no, that's okay — consider my mind already blown… but I do have some questions about your headphones if you have a second?"

"I don't really know that much about them except they cost over 3k."

"Wow, they cost as much as my favorite boots… I've only seen this particular model on the East Coast."

"Yeah, my nephew got them when he did a session in NYC, said they're a piece of junk."

"For that amount of money, that's very surprising — did he say why?"

"I have no clue because they work just fine for me, he was gonna trash them."

"May I?"

"Of course, here."

Maura slips them on and listens carefully to the sound. She then digs deep in her satchel for her phone, ignores the messages from Jane, and takes multiple pictures of the audio equipment. The wannabe DJ is too busy enjoying the doctor's cleavage to notice his wife giving him daggers across the way. Maura notices her instantly and hands back the headphones.

"Okay, thank you so much, enjoy the rest of the party."

She escapes inside the house and stares at the phone in her hand. The temptation to call Jane is overwhelming but she wrestles it back.

"This can wait until tomorrow."

Maura then plucks out Ronnie's card and memorizes the number. Ashok sneaks up from behind.

"Call her, Maura, you know you want to."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I know you, not in the Biblical way — thank God — but I know your brain."

The two chuckle.

"But, I'm here to help you and Phillip clean up."

"Darling, please, I am not an invalid — the party is winding down and we have it all taken care of."

"I don't want to appear too eager with her."

"You do realize the two of you spent nearly three hours practically sitting in each others' laps, ignoring everyone and everything around you?"

"Oh."

"What did you two talk about?"

"I don't really know."

"Righty then… and don't even get me started on the dueling nipple-thon you had going on."

"It was cold."

He points out the window.

"The thermometer still reads 87 degrees… in the shade."

Dr. Isles throws up her hands in defeat and smirks at Dr. Ramachandran.

"Fine, Shoky, you win — I will admit that it was nice to be in the company of a woman who is secure in herself, secure in her sexuality and…"

He cuts her off.

"Secure in her ardent attraction to you!"

"I was going to say secure in her choice of overpowering fragrances but I like yours better."

The two of them laugh and he gives her a quick hug.

"For us boring married couples, seven o'clock on a Saturday night is late but the night is very young for you singles."

"But, I am not single."

"You are not married, either, and, more importantly, you are not in Boston."

"You know I love Jane."

"A woman who inspires you to sit on floors and tranquilize yourself — sure!"

"That's not fair."

"I am not disputing that, Maura, but isn't the whole point of you being out here is to be away from Jane for awhile so you can have a better perspective on what exactly your relationship is?"

"Agreed, but complicating it further with a fling with another woman is not the best solution."

"You're the one who said 'fling' just now, I was only pushing for dinner."

Maura hangs her head and blushes. Ashok pats her shoulder.

"Darling, you have absolutely nothing to feel ashamed about — you're human, you're hurting, you're…"

She cuts him off this time.

"I swear, Shoky, if you say 'horny,' I will throw a cupcake at you!"

"First of all, I hate that word, it's vulgar, secondly…"

He gets in her face with a wink and a smile and a decidedly more shrill singsong voice.

"YOU'RE THE ONE THAT'S GOING THERE — AGAIN — I was going to say, 'hungry' as in hungry for a respite, hungry for a new friend, hungry for… I dunno, a fish taco supper."

The two of them are now practically falling over from laughter.

"YOU'RE HORRIBLE."

"I KNOW."

"I LOVE YOU, SHOKY."

"WHO DOESN'T?"

Phillip enters the kitchen with an empty punch bowl and smiles at both of them. Ashok doesn't see him and continues with his slightly tipsy, too loud voice.

"AND IF RONNIE WANTS TO GO DOWN ON YOU LIKE A VAGINAL VIRTUOSO, THEN I SAY, BY GOD, LET HER."

Phillip plops the punchbowl down on the counter, spins on his heel, and exits the kitchen without saying a word. Maura steps back and coughs. Ashok steadies himself.

"Oh, dear — did we have an audience just now?"

"I believe so."

"I better go help clean up, and you need to go call Ms. Ortiz — out front because the kitchen is a dead zone for reception."

She squeezes his elbow.

"Thank you, my friend."

Before he disappears into the backyard, he turns around.

"Maura, I have one more word for you in case you're still hesitant… Michelle!"

Before she can answer, he slams the sliding glass door shut and hurries off.

Maura grimaces and heads out the garage door. It's open for easier entry to house for both supplies and partygoers. She pulls out her phone and is about to dial Ronnie's number when she sees another call from Jane. While she debates which button to push, a figure emerges from the edge of the garage. The doctor looks up and nearly drops her phone. The dark figure looks like Jane for a moment until she realizes the height difference.

"Ronnie?"

"I'm sorry, Maura, I didn't mean to frighten you…"

She searches around Phillip's tool box and holds up a wrench. She clears her throat and tries to act nonchalant.

"I… was looking for this."

"A box wrench?"

The woman curls her lips into an evil grin and pops the tip of her tongue out as she bites it.

"Heh, uh, yeah… of course it is — I, uh, I… needed it for… oh, nevermind!"

Ronnie tosses the wrench aside and it clangs down on the cement floor. She strides right up to Maura.

"I never left, I was in my car for the last 20 minutes trying to find excuses to come back here and steal you away from this party."

"I thought you had business?"

"The great thing about being a boss is that you can delegate."

Maura leans in closer to her.

"Mmm, a boss."

Ronnie now murmurs in her ear.

"So…"

"Hmm?"

"Do I need to find excuses?"

"Nm-mmh."

As Ronnie deposits one small kiss on Maura's cheek, Ashok playfully pops his head in the garage.

"Take it elsewhere, ladies, preferably down the road… goodnight!"

The two share a guilty chuckle as Ronnie steps back and Maura folds her arms across her chest. They exit the garage in silence and step out among the many parked cars on the driveway and in the street.

"Are you still up for dinner, Maura, or has your stomach hit its limit with kiddie food?"

"I could eat…"

Embarrassed by the unintended double entendre, the doctor shifts uncomfortably on her feet. The realtor takes the high road and politely doesn't respond. She only offers her arm to her suddenly demure dining companion.

"Come, my carriage awaits."

Maura takes the extended extremity and they head down the block. Dr. Isles abruptly halts and regards her way-too-short shorts and tank top ensemble.

"Oh, I'm not sure I'm dressed appropriately for dinner — maybe I should stop and change?"

"Chica, please, this isn't the East Coast — being half-naked with flip flops is traditional attire out here…"

Ronnie runs her eyes entirely up and down Maura's body and unleashes a salacious smile.

"Besides, I'm enjoying the view."

Both flattered and flummoxed, Dr. Isles is still slightly uneasy with handling the heated attention from a female who isn't a certain Boston homicide detective. Sensing this, Ms. Ortiz shrugs off her jacket and wraps it around Maura with a quick flourish.

"There… not exactly a well-matched look but it works for tonight."

The doctor draws the lapels closer to her bosom and clasps Ronnie's hand.

"Thank you."

"Ready?"

"Lead the way."

The two cross the street and stop next to a 1980s black 560 SL Mercedes Benz. Maura is impressed.

"A classic beauty."

"It's the first thing I bought when I earned enough money to do so — it's a bit showy but it's not as bad as that ostentatious monstrosity across the way."

She nods right at Maura's Maserati. The doctor nearly chokes on her own tongue.

"Uh… huh."

Before Maura can form a word, let alone a rebuttal, Ronnie pops open the door to her car and guides her passenger inside. She slides into the leather interior and expresses her admiration to its owner.

"It's in remarkable shape."

"I enjoy lavishing my attention on it."

Maura is fully capable of adjusting her seat and buckling her belt but Ronnie has already done those things for her. The doctor recalls how nice it feels to be fussed over by a sexy suitor and delights in the indulgence.

"I have't been in one of these since my boarding school days."

"Yeah, all the rich girls in my class got one for their 16th birthdays, I was lucky to get my brother's beat-up Camero at 21."

The doctor can't help but notice how gorgeous the realtor is, even from a side view, but keeps her comments to car talk.

"I bet you still have that Camero."

"I do — fully restored and sharing the stables with my other thoroughbreds."

"I'd love to go for a ride someday."

Ronnie leans over and looks Maura right in the eye.

"Anytime you want."

The engine roars awake and they pull away from the curb. The rest of the evening is spent inside the dimly lit cantina adorned with folk art, flowers, and candles. Ronnie knows the waitstaff well and is rewarded with a quiet corner table and privacy.

The two women have a good time over tapas talking about light and airy subjects like food, and tennis, and making adolescent fun of the other diners. Nothing too deep like work or family crosses their lips. Maura grows more comfortable in the easy silences and nonverbal flirting.

Ronnie was right about the delicious ceviche but Maura's interest in the meal was secondary to her interest in the woman next to her. Their earlier repose of relaxing against each other in Ashok's backyard once again returned as a finger tango commenced between them under the table. A gentle knee squeeze was returned with a slight thigh trace. Bold but nothing too inappropriate. A loud crashing of plates interrupts their seated dance.

"Well, that was untimely."

Ronnie cranes her neck around to make sure the dish destruction was confined to the kitchen. When the realtor returns her focus, she finds the doctor cowering under the table.

"Did you drop something, Maura?"

"Only my dignity."

Ronnie immediately drops down to her. Still trembling from the clatter, Maura tries to catch her breath.

"I'm… I'm so sorry… sudden loud noises still remind me of…"

"There's no need to explain."

The protective embrace of the woman encourages Maura back into the booth. Ronnie keeps her arm around her and doesn't let go. She holds up two fingers to a passing waiter and commands the premium tequila. They both down the shots as soon as they arrive.

"Two more, por favor!"

"No, I appreciate it but I cannot handle anymore alcohol."

Ronnie waves off the order and smirks.

"Who said they were for you?"

Maura is not sure if that was a joke.

"Oh, please order more if you want."

"Just kidding, a failed attempt at lightening the mood — I won't ask you about what happened with the shooting in Boston but if you need to talk about it, I am right here."

"Thank you, but I'd rather not speak about it right now… in fact, I'd rather not speak at all."

"That works for me."

The two clasp hands as Maura closes her eyes and steadies her breathing. Their fingers convey all the communication that is necessary. Ronnie covertly slips her other hand up inside her own jacket that still covers the doctor and begins a basic back rub. Not enough to make a display of themselves for the other patrons but the massage is more than enough for Maura's traumatic tension to turn into a different kind. A soft moan of encouragement escapes her lips. The realtor catches it in her ear and responds accordingly.

"You know I can conjure up other ways to take the edge off if you'd like?"

"I would like that very much but I believe we've already had our flan for dessert."

Maura tries to laugh but Ronnie does not. She is intense with her intent.

"You do know I want to take you home?"

"Well, since we drove here in your car, that makes sense."

Ronnie growls in Maura's ear.

"You do know I want to take you to bed?"

The doctor lets out a deep sigh and wobbles as she stands up.

"And that is why I need to call a cab."

The realtor darts up immediately and takes Maura's hand again.

"I deeply apologize, Dr. Isles, I pushed too far."

"It's fine, Ms. Ortiz, since I'm quite guilty of encouraging you to push."

"Let me fetch that cab for you…"

Before Maura can protest, Ronnie is already barking orders to the cantina's hostess. Moments later, they step outside and wait together for the yellow hybrid. Other couples are picking up their vehicles from the valet. The doctor realizes the realtor's jacket continues to hang from her shoulders.

"Here, let me give this back to you before you go."

"Keep it, I insist, it's cool out now."

"I'll return it to you the next time we meet."

"That's a relief… that we'll see each other again."

Maura shines her eyes, bleary as they are, at Ronnie and speaks barely above a whisper.

"Of course we will."

Ronnie pulls her close.

"Good… and I honestly don't care what happens to the jacket."

The two chuckle. The realtor continues.

"How about a match?"

Maura starts to search her purse.

"Sorry, I don't smoke, but I usually carry a some kind of flint because you never know when you'll need a spark."

Ronnie is caught off guard by the sudden glimpse of Maura Isles: Science Goofball but her perplexed visage fades back to hot fawning. She stops her from searching, takes her hand in hers, and softly caresses it.

"I don't think we need anymore sparks… I was asking you for a tennis match."

"Yes, of course, that would be fun — we have amazing clay courts where I'm staying."

"I have tomorrow afternoon off, how about 4:00?"

"I'll be there."

More cars pass by as they continue to wait. As much as the doctor is complimented by the relator's sense of chivalry, she secretly wanted her to leave because it was taking all of Maura's self control not to invite Ronnie back with her.

"Are you okay to drive home, Ms. Ortiz?"

"I know my limit and I'm fine, thank you."

She now turns to face Maura.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Umm..."

"Would you like me to leave?"

"Uh, yes…"

Ronnie raises a somewhat shocked eyebrow but quickly wrestles it back in place. Still searing into Maura with her gaze, she offers a half smile, a half bow, and starts to step away. Maura grabs her arm.

"And no…"

They both pull each other into a long embrace. It is both strong and comforting and what the doctor has desired since the shooting. Ronnie was not wrapped in the messy, conflicting emotions that covered Jane from head to toe. What the realtor offered was simple, bold, and reassuringly easy. Maura feels the kissing coming but decides not to stop it. Ronnie takes full advantage and only halts when the yellow hybrid pulls up and honks. Maura jumps back.

"We are cursed with bad timing and loud noises."

Ronnie licks her lips and shoots an evil grin.

"Thank you for letting me borrow your lipstick, Maura."

Knowing she absolutely had to get in that cab alone, the doctor diffuses the flammable feelings with humor.

"Thank you for not asking to borrow my yeast infection cream."

Instead of a cringing chortle, Ronnie's only expression is of wide-eyed silence. Maura digs herself deeper.

"I… I don't really have a yeast infection… now… I did but it's gone… I threw up on myself… the new yoga pants were too tight… you see, _Candida albicans_ can…"

Ronnie holds up one solitary finger to Maura's lips.

"I am going to stop you right here because I don't need the fantasy completely obliterated — goodnight, Dr. Isles."

The realtor pivots on her heel and heads off. Maura waves and calls after her.

"I'll see you on the green clay tomorrow, Ms. Ortiz, I look forward to getting dirty with you… in a non-fungus producing way!"

Ronnie pauses for a moment but does not turn around. She continues on as Maura climbs into the cab and giggles with sheer delight. The doctor was looking forward to a long bath later that night and, for the first time in a long time, thoughts of Detective Jane Rizzoli were nowhere to be found.


End file.
